Hermione's Letter
by visodyssey
Summary: Chapter 15 Added - No OotP Spoilers here - Please R&R! Hermione receives a letter. But who from? And why is she suddenly having strange dreams? HHr.
1. Chapter 1: A Strange Dream

**Hermione's Letter**

**Chapter 1**

**Revised ****31 July 2003****  
  
**

**Hermione's Letter copyright © 2003 Steven Gilks. All rights reserved. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and all related scenarios and everything else Harry Potter copyright © J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.  
  
**

**OK, now to all the readers: When you've read each chapter, please review my work. Whether you think it's good, bad or you're not really sure either way, please let me know.  
  
**

**Enjoy!  
  
**

**Chapter 1  
  
**

Hermione Granger, Gryffindor genius and Muggle-born witch, friend of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, and seriously beautiful young girl, walked slowly and perhaps a little timidly along a dirt path which wound its way through the huge green fields that surrounded her home. The emerald leaves of the trees present there fluttered about in the cold winds brushing themselves up against the colossal trees. Hermione shuddered as she made her way through this expanse of greens and browns, as she had often done, as she had always done. The lowering sun projected a radiance of orange across the land and Hermione's face was bathed in it; the light made her seem to glow and to any outsider she would have seemed as beautiful as crystal clear waters washing up on a golden beach. Hermione often came to these woods to contemplate her life and to think about her friends. She'd not seen Harry or Ron all summer, but she had kept in touch by owl. But she missed them dearly, and wanted, even needed to see them.  
  


She walked on down the track, heading towards the massive gate in front of her house. The house itself was as big as a national monument; there was a huge garden with fountains and bushes, a swimming pool, a small car park, and at the very front, large metal gates and a similar fence surrounding the structure, which in itself took much ground, and extended back and up quite a distance too. There was a smaller structure to the side, which although well maintained, was usually deserted.  
  


Hermione quickened her pace, and unaware of her actions, walked straight into the closed gate, knocking herself back and down onto the dirt track. She had been distracted, and for the same reason she always was lately – her friend Harry, The Boy Who Lived.  
  


She picked herself up, brushing the dirt off of her long summer dress, and entering a keypad sequence on a control panel on the gates to open them. As they were electronically sealed, the doors took a moment to open, but eventually they parted, and she passed through, the gates swinging shut behind her. As she walked up the drive, she continued her quiet contemplation.  
  


Her feelings of joy at seeing him once again following her long recovery from being petrified by an ancient Basilisk, a snake-like creature that had previously been living inside the long-hidden Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had bordered on ecstasy, and she had been somewhat overwhelmed by the level of emotion she had experienced then. It was most unusual, she thought. Her logical mind could not dismiss this most illogical thing, and she had had plenty of time to consider it over the summer; the feelings of transient energy that passed through her body when she took Harry in her arms and clung on to him; the powerful sentiments that she now experienced when she simply spoke to him; these things were indicative of the new connection that existed between the two young magic folk.  
  


She had come up with only one conclusion. Her feelings were demonstrative of only one thing – love. But how could she feel that way for him? How could she be attracted to her best friend? Why was her heart telling her to risk it all just to hold him in her arms, as her own? Could she risk losing the wonderful friendship they shared? How far would she go to satisfy her feelings, her _need for this boy?  
  
_

She couldn't expel these ideas from her mind, no matter how much she told herself to. Hermione was academically very brilliant, but her powers of thought-stopping were not as immense. But then, she thought, no-one was perfect. Besides, what sane girl _could_ resist Harry? He was attractive, a great Seeker, the only person to have ever survived an attack by the feared Lord Voldemort, and a master of insulting the constant niggle that was Draco Malfoy. Hermione felt she'd be mad _not_ to like him. But then, with so many girls swooning at the mention of his name, perhaps what he really needed was someone who didn't do that. _Perhaps, she thought, _perhaps I shouldn't go after him. He really needs a friend, and maybe I will be better for him in that capacity. Maybe I should sweep these feelings aside._ But there was no conviction to her thoughts, and really she knew that if it wasn't just lust, but in fact was the powerful sentiment commonly known as love, no-one, not she, Harry, or anyone else, would be able to resist it.  
  
_

It gave her something nice to think about as she reached the front door and entered her house with the use of another security code. For Hermione, something else that was nice to think about was her school work. She had of course done her homework at the start of summer, but she had felt that the cancellation of exams that had been declared by Professor Dumbledore as a school treat at the end of the previous term and school year obliged her to do additional work to maintain her standard. There was no doubt that Hermione did her absolute best when it came to academics. She maintained a massive standard and was truly someone to be measured by in that regard.  
  


She glanced into the living room, which was indeed a huge room, as big as a hall, and saw her father there, watching television and drinking tea from a flagon-sized cup. He saw her and gave her a smile, and she returned the gesture, although not entering the room. She was still deep in thought. She reached the staircase and ascended to the first floor, then rounding the corners she utilised a further set of stairs to get to the second floor – her floor. The entire floor was decorated in a deep purple tone, which Hermione was very proud of – she loved this colour, and it was a calming influence on her.  
  


Her bedroom, by comparison, although of a similarly large size to the other rooms in the house, held a stark contrast on its walls to those of the corridor it was adjoined to. The bright yellow shades emitted by the Sun were reflected here; the walls were the colour of sunflowers, and the bright tones reflected Hermione's good-heartedness.  
  
Hermione entered the room, and closed the heavy wooden door, locking it with a long, brass key so as not to be disturbed by her parents. She liked to work undisturbed, although of course tonight, she knew, she did not want to be alone solely so she could work. She also wanted to _think without interruption. Fortunately, Hermione's mother and father were very aware of her moods, and were able to tell when she wanted to be comforted, to be left alone, or just to be chatted with. She could rely on them not to disrupt her quiet contemplation. It was relieving to Hermione that she was able to do this, and that they respected her privacy. She valued this treatment greatly, and she loved her Muggle parents immensely, for this and many other wonderful qualities that they possessed. They were magical in their own way.  
  
_

She flopped onto her bed, which was an ancient, but charming, double bed with four posts and curtains surrounding it, and lay back, simply thinking. Thoughts she had previously had of doing further academic assignments faded away, as did the hours since she had landed there on her bed. Before long, she found her eyes closing, and drifted off into sleep, early on this summer night.  
  


Towards the end of her sleep cycle, she had a strange and memorable dream, which was extremely odd for Hermione as she rarely recalled her sleeping thoughts. This night they consisted of a cold place, and of an odd figure; undefined, but very real. The figure stood in front of her, a mist surrounding it, making it impossible for Hermione to determine its identity. She approached it, and in response it turned and ran away through the snowy landscape. Hermione could not see any of her surroundings except the ground, owing to the massive levels of mist present, but she could feel the cold of the snow there. She pursued the figure, and called out to it as she did so, but it continued to accelerate and soon it was out of the range of the girl's sight. She tried to trace it by footprints, but on looking down to the ground she found the figure had left none…  
  


The rest of her sleep cycle was uninterrupted by strange imagery, and she awoke the next morning to a sharp banging on the door of her bright bedroom. The big bay windows opposite her revealed that it was early morning; a warm light penetrated the room through the same viewpoint.  
  


Hermione slipped off of the bed, and walked over to the door, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she did so, and unlocked the door, opening to find the face of the family butler smiling at her.  
  


"Good morning Miss Hermione. How are we this morning?" He addressed Hermione with the utmost respect.  
  


Hermione flashed her warm smile at him with all of her usual charm. "I'm ok, thank you. Yourself?"  
  


"I am very well, Miss, and thank you for asking. You will, of course, have remembered that you have to catch the Hogwarts Express at eleven, and your parents have asked that you be ready well in advance, in order that I may drive you all to the station. Additionally, this morning I have a letter for you. I was of the impression that all your letters came on the leg of an owl, so I was quite surprised to find this in the post box this morning." The butler handed the young Gryffindor the letter, and left the room, heading back down the stairs to the ground floor.  
  


Hermione took the letter and placed it on her desk, deciding she wanted to get changed first. She found a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from her wardrobe, which stood along the left wall of her expansive room, as well as some undergarments, and proceeded to the shower room.  
  


After cleaning herself and putting on her choice of apparel for the journey, she was graced by another visit from the butler. He came up to her room with a rack of toast and a cup of tea of a similar size to that which her father had had the previous night. Hermione, too, was a fan of the 'flagon of tea'. She thanked the butler and he once again disappeared to serve Hermione's parents.  
  


She consumed the toast rapidly, fighting the hunger in her belly until it was as miniscule as a millipede, and then, remembering the letter, wandered over to her rustic desk and picked up the envelope, which possessed a slight brown tinge, as if it were very old. She examined the writing and almost instantly recognized it, with no doubt in her mind as to the creator of the script.  
  


She proceeded with trepidation to the task of opening the envelope. Doing so carefully so as not to damage the note that would undoubtedly be inside, she quivered in both the early-morning breeze, which permeated her room via the open window, and her uncertainty of what the letter might contain.  
  


Finally, the envelope was opened, and Hermione pulled out the letter, which was written by hand on old, fragile paper which too possessed a light brown colouring and the same unmistakable handwriting.  
  


With her heart pumping a little more than usual, she began to scan the text.  
  


And it read:  
  


Dear Hermione…  
  



	2. Chapter 2: The Letter

**Hermione's Letter**

**By Steve  
  
Copyright © 2003 Steven Gilks. All rights reserved. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and all related concepts and situations copyright © JK Rowling. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.  
  
All reviews get a review response in the Hermione's Letter Yahoo! Group (hermionesletter).**

  
**Chapter 2**

**  
Dear Hermione,  
You might want to sit down before you read this. If I've sent it at the right time, you should probably be in your bedroom. The butler should have just delivered this letter to you.  
I know you'll find this hard to believe. Logical of the mind as you are, it will be difficult for you to accept. But you must believe it. Your safety, the safety of your friends and family, of Hogwarts, and indeed the entire world is at stake.  
I don't know how to say this, so I'll just say it: someone has surreptitiously used their abilities to send a disruption wave through time. The world suffered incredible damage, and the spell rendered Dumbledore and most of the world's greatest wizards and witches helpless. A lot of Hogwarts' finest, both students and teachers, were lost in the attack, which, although swift, loses none of its brutality in the speed of its destruction.  
Myself and Ron survived, but, and I'm sorry to just hit you with this; trust me, I know how much you like him, but Harry did not survive the attack. He was too weak at the time.  
Allow me to explain further; at the end of this year, you and Harry will making a daring move that will allow a Hippogriff and Harry's godfather (you'll find out more as the year goes on) to escape the clutches of a wrongful execution. **

However, the real criminal will escape. We believe he was the one responsible for the disaster: he owed something to Harry, and by killing Harry, and incidentally altering history, he has eradicated that burden, leaving him free to support certain… causes, when the time is right.  
The person I am talking about is Peter Pettigrew. Harry will dispute this if he ever finds out, the whole world in your time believes he's dead and that he's a hero, but trust me, it's true. He is not what he seems to be. Should you have an opportunity to capture him, do so.  
How he had the power to cause the alterations is unknown, although I expect it has something to do with Lord Voldemort. Everything that has happened before has, hasn't it?  
However, Hermione, you must stop all of this happening, and I hate to have to place such a burden on your shoulders, but everything is at stake. Be careful though; since the spell was easily able to overcome Professor Dumbledore, it most certainly could stop you. You must stop the culprit _before the spell is initiated, or all is lost._

Attached to this letter you will find all the instructions you need to prevent this disaster. You must use conviction when attempting to cast these spells or they will not function correctly.  
Tell no-one. Not even your teachers. If no-one is aware, it will be safer and easier for you to carry out your task.  
I will not be able to contact you again. Remember, you _must execute the plan at the specified time, or it will really be the end.  
Good luck. I know you can do it.  
Yours, Hermione Granger  
  
_

Hermione sat down on her bed in shock, dropping the letter as she did so, her body oscillating like it had never previously. She found herself unable to move as her mind wandered over the   
contents of the message. The world destroyed by a hero? Professor Dumbledore rendered helpless by one spell? _Harry dead_? She couldn't believe it. It seemed extremely unlikely. It was more likely   
that it was a prank. But something about the letter had affected her. Although unbelievable, she had definitely recognized the handwriting as her own. Now sure, it wouldn't take much to forge it, but the language and grammar present also seemed to concur with the conclusion that the letter was genuine. Furthermore, she knew that if she had the opportunity to prevent a disaster, she certainly would do everything within her power to do so.  
  
The letter seemed to be full of holes. Firstly, Hermione was not a powerful witch, and it would have been more logical to have contacted another to carry out the task, such as Professor Dumbledore, or Professor McGonagall. Secondly, Peter Pettigrew was a known hero; it was not likely that he would intentionally cause harm to the world. He had been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, for his self sacrifice in defence of the Muggle population, and he had never shown anything but loyalty to the parents of Harry Potter, Lily and James.  
  


She picked up the letter again, and glanced at the attached instruction page. The magic was above and beyond any level she had ever seen; some of these incantations were outside the abilities even of seventh years, according to the Hogwarts curriculum Hermione had managed to acquire a copy of. There was a good chance that the incantations would fail if Hermione tried to perform them; she did not have the magical prowess necessary for their implementation.  
  


Additionally, acting in secret would be difficult; if she performed these spells it would not go unnoticed, especially not by Dumbledore, who seemed to be omniscient. She could hide her actions from Snape, or possibly McGonagall, but definitely not the Hogwarts headteacher.  
  


Hermione needed to confide the information in someone. She certainly couldn't work alone on this, despite the letter's warnings. Her next decision, therefore, had to be the person to whom she would reveal the existence of, and the contents of, the letter.  If she mentioned it to any of her teachers, they would do one of two things: either claim it to be nonsense, give her detention (in the case of Professor Snape, the somewhat disrespectful and rude Potions teacher), or take it off her hands and execute the plan themselves. Neither alternative was acceptable, if the letter's instructions were to be followed, and Hermione was to execute the plan.  
  


She thought about speaking to Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts, and friend of all three of Harry, Ron and Hermione, but although she could trust him to be a little more understanding, he would probably do the same as the teachers, and would take it out of her hands, which, again, was unacceptable.  
  


Her mind moved on to Dumbledore; Hermione regarded him as wiser than the rest of the staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and probably the rest of the world too, but although he would ultimately support her in her quest, she decided he may also follow the technically correct path and would complete the mission himself.

Although, she thought to herself, he probably already knows about this…  
  


So that seemed to leave one option: her two friends in Gryffindor House at Hogwarts. She would see them later today, and the triad had succeeded in defeating incredible forces of Dark Arts twice before; once in their first year where they successfully managed to pass Fluffy, a three-headed dog, win a life size game of Wizard Chess, and solve a riddle to allow Harry to pass through a flame barrier, after which he defeated Lord Voldemort once again, and once in their second year, when Harry and Ron discovered the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, and Harry went on to defeat a Basilisk and the living memory of Lord Voldemort. Furthermore, they would understand the need for secrecy and would protect the knowledge of the existence of the letter. Hermione would trust them with her life; and this information was as valuable as the life of this young Gryffindor, if not more so.  
  


She was interrupted as before by a knock on the door. This time it was her mother. "Who was your letter from, darling?"  
  


Hermione looked up. "Oh, just a friend from school." She lied intentionally; she did not want her parents to worry incessantly about what they would most likely deem a prank letter, sent by 'that white-haired kid you mentioned' to try and upset her.  
  


As Hermione continued to drink her tea, she couldn't stop thinking about the letter. Her mixed opinions clashed like the swords and shields of ancient armies; she felt for the death of the one she loved, she knew she had to prevent the disaster, she knew that she wasn't to tell anyone, but she knew she couldn't do it alone…  
  


She put the thought to one side as she realised she didn't have long to go until the train departed from Kings Cross in London for the station in Hogsmeade. Hermione, ever the efficient little witch, had packed most of her things a week before the date she would have to return to Hogwarts, but her final few books still needed packing. She had a great deal of shopping from this year's visit to Diagon Alley, as she was taking more subjects than anyone else in her year group. How she was going to do it? Well, this was still a mystery to her. She had no idea how the school would arrange for her to fit in all her subjects in the limited time she had available, although, as she was now aware after two exceptionally interesting years in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, anything is possible.  
  


She pressed a button on the wall, above which a red bulb lit, shining brightly. A few minutes later, the butler knocked on her door again. She opened it and looked up at the somewhat tall butler.  
  


"Hello again. Umm, could you carry my suitcases down to the car please?" she asked politely, smiling at him.  
  


The butler nodded graciously. "Certainly, Miss Hermione," he said, picking up the two suitcases and carrying them effortlessly down the stairs. Hermione picked up her wand, inserting it into her inside pocket carefully, lest the Muggles were to notice it, and after taking one final look around her room, she walked out and closed the door silently, following the butler down towards the ground floor.  
  


***

Barely an hour later everything was loaded into the car, which was still empty for its size. It was a very large multi-personnel vehicle, modified by Hermione's family to include additional facilities and comforts. The controls of the vehicle were highly automated, and certain systems accepted voice input. All that was needed was a quick 'window down' to have the window wind itself down automatically.  
  


Hermione however, didn't take advantage of many of these comforts during this trip. She had busied herself earlier with preparations for her departure, but now, when she had to do nothing but sit in the car, her mind lapsed into the thoughts of wonder about who the mysterious figure of her dreams was, and additionally, of course, the letter and its contents.  
  


The thinking process rendered Hermione unusually quiet, and her parents noticed the change. They expressed concern at Hermione's sudden behavioural alteration, but Hermione again hid the real reason, saying that she was simply feeling anticipative and nervous at the thought of seeing her friends again. Which wasn't exactly a lie; she had a _lot_ of nervous thoughts running through her head regarding her friends, especially about Harry. She had decided that she was going to try not to feel uncomfortable around him, although she knew that she probably would feel this way, whether or not she tried to suppress her emotions. But for the sake of their friendship, she would try.  
  


The journey did not last long, and eventually Hermione arrived at the station, the butler assisting in carrying the luggage Hermione had brought onto the platform and onto a trolley, so that Hermione could pass through the barrier onto Platform 9¾ prepared and ready to go.  
  


She said her goodbyes to her parents, promising to return to see them at Christmas, and finally pushed her trolley through the wall connecting Kings Cross with Platform 9¾.    
  


It was still a while until the train would set off; the time was only ten-ten hours, so Hermione was very early. She left her luggage in the appropriate compartment of the train, which boasted its usual fabulous red colouring, boarded it and found an empty cabin. Entering the room she sat down window side, and rested her head on the soft seat, finding herself a comfortable position in order to wait for her friends to arrive. Very soon, she found herself lapsing into sleep again.  
  


Yet again she saw the indefinable figure in her dreams. He was closer this time, and she was able to regard his features a little, but she couldn't quite determine who it was. The person however did have a sense of familiarity to Hermione. It was definitely someone she knew, or at least had seen somewhere before. But with her vast knowledge and the wide range of observations she made, she would have a hard time figuring it out, as many names and faces were present within her.  
  


And as soon as he saw her, the figure ran again, seemingly faster this time. Once more Hermione tried to catch him up, matching his speed with the use of an Acceleration Charm, but to no avail. He disappeared in exactly the same manner as in her previous dream, leaving no traces that he had ever been there…  
  


She didn't wake up till just before eleven o' clock, when the train was ready to depart for the school. The door to her cabin had opened, and Harry Potter, the person Hermione had wanted to see, was in her cabin, stood in front of her, smiling at her as her eyes twitched and eventually opened. Her eyes eventually recognized the face in front of her, and she regained her strength instantly, practically charging at him and almost knocking him over as she pulled him into a hug, accidentally winding him as she did so.  
  


Harry was a little overwhelmed by her actions, but he put his arms around her too. "It's great to see you too Herm. I've missed you." He choked for air a little as she squashed him in her hug.  
  


Hermione realised how much she shared the sentiment that Harry had expressed in the moments of the hug. "You have no idea how much I've missed you Harry. The months were a real drag without you and Ron, and of course you two are my best friends." She continued to hold him close until he pulled away, gasping for breath.  
  


"Hermione, I've missed you too. I really have. I wish I could have come and seen you, but as you know… with the Dursleys, it's not really possible." He looked a little glum at the thought of continued life with his aunt, uncle and cousin.  
  


Hermione put her hands on either side of his face, and raised his slightly sunken face so that his eyes were in line with hers. "Harry, why don't you come to my place at Christmas? Ron too if he wants. And if I can arrange it, perhaps during the summer, we might be able to go on holiday, in the Muggle world, for a while. Just the three of us. At least you would be away from the Dursleys for a week or two that way."  
  


Harry considered her offer for a moment, before conceding to her that it probably wasn't possible because Vernon, his uncle, would never permit it.  
  


"We'll do something about that. Perhaps we can get Dumbledore to talk to them."  
  


Harry shook his head. "That'll only make them madder. But I do know someone who might be able to… I'll have a word with him later."  
  


Ron entered at that moment. "Hey Hermione, Harry, break it up. Is there something I should know?" Hermione quickly removed her hands from Harry's cheeks, as both of them blushed.   
  


"Look what I've got!" Ron exclaimed. He showed them a brand new wand. It was black and glossy, a high-class wand if ever there was one. "And watch, Hermione!" He swished and flicked his wand, then proclaimed the words "_Wingardium__ Leviosa!"  
  
_

Harry's wizard hat rose gracefully off of his head and hung in the air. Back in first-year, that spell had been a tricky one for Ron to master, and although he had successfully performed it once, using it to defeat a troll by raising its own club out of its hand and dropping it on its head, he had never really mastered the spell's use.  
  


Hermione smiled as Ron then performed his next spell.  
  


"Spectrolia cambra!" He gestured with his wand to the hat again, which was now radiating with sparkling colours; every colour imaginable passed through that hat as it continued to glide in the air. Finally, Ron brought it down onto Harry's head with a further gesture of his wand.  
  


But before he could continue to demonstrate and impress Hermione further, the blonde-haired Draco Malfoy of the house of Slytherin arrived with his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, both with fists clenched, ready to fight.  
  


"Alright Potter?" Draco asked scornfully. "See you're still friends with the Mudblood and the Weasel? You know, I wouldn't have to annoy you if you hung around with me."  
  


Harry didn't hesitate in his response. "You don't annoy me Malfoy. Your acts don't bother me at all. They're not impressive enough for that."  
  


Ron nodded in agreement. "Why don't you take your little friends elsewhere? We're busy."  
  


Crabbe and Goyle moved forward at Ron's remark of them being 'little', raising their fists. But before they could fire, Ron had whipped his wand out.  
  


_"Locarnum Terradare!"  
  
_

Stones, twigs, leaves, and mud flew out of Ron's wand and smashed across the faces of Crabbe and Goyle, leaving them with bruises and a horrified Malfoy running down the corridor.  
  


"Right, now then," said Ron, when the wand finally stopped spitting out earth, "let's continue. _Locarnum_ Infla…_"  
  
_

But before he could finish the spell, they had dashed off to follow Malfoy.  
  


Hermione nodded. "I'm impressed! Your magical technique has certainly improved, Ron. And the way you dealt with those three was most impressive. Maybe I'm finally beginning to rub off on you."  
  


Harry raised an eyebrow, but quickly lowered it again before Hermione could notice it. His face betrayed him, however, and a little blush washed over his face like the waters of the sea wash over the beaches present at the shores of the land.  
  


"However, we're going to need more powerful spells this year. Have a read of this."  
  


She handed them the letter, her hand still slightly shaking, and waited for their responses to it, her stomach churning massively as she waited for them to react…  
  



	3. Chapter 3: The Sorting Ceremony

Hermione's Letter  
Chapter 3  
by Steve  
  
Please R&R! Reviews keep me writing!  
  
Thanks to the people who have reviewed so far. Your reviews have encouraged me to continue writing this story.  
  
---  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Harry and Ron simply sat on the seat, paralysed by the letter. Both kept opening their mouths to speak, but words escaped them.  
  
Eventually Ron managed to comment.  
  
"Bloody hell!"  
  
Hermione nodded. "I think that about sums it up."  
  
Harry continued the conversation. "Do you believe it Hermione?" He was pretty sure he knew the answer.  
  
"Well I was dubious at first, but I think so. I mean look at the spells sheet attached." Harry took the sheet and started to glance down it. Hermione continued. "Those spells wouldn't be available to just anyone. Secondly it does at least sound like me writing, I would do the same if I were in a situation as desperate as this."  
  
"But we can't be sure that it isn't just a stupid prank by someone with access to high level spells," piped in Ron. "Think about it. Draco's father probably has access to this type of magic. He could have given it to him, or perhaps Draco sneaked a look at his father's magic books without him knowing."  
  
Hermione, of course, had considered this. "We can't be sure; and that's the main problem. So we must find out if it's true."  
  
Harry looked up at Hermione's deep brown eyes. "But how?"  
  
Hermione's expression indicated her disgust at what she was about to say.  
  
"We could do what we did before: brew some Polyjuice Potion and turn into Crabbe and Goyle. Only this time I'm making sure I don't get cat hair. And I'll try and do something about the taste of the mixture too."  
  
Ron looked just as disgusted, if not more so. "Aww Hermione, do we really have to do that? I mean, isn't there any other way? Can't we just read his mind or something?"  
  
Hermione scowled at Ron for a moment then continued. "If we find out it isn't him, we proceed. But we mustn't let anyone know. The letter said not to."  
  
Harry and Ron nodded.  
  
The trolley-lady came up to their cabin at that point. "Anything from the trolley, dears?" Harry bought everyone some refreshments for the rest of the trip to the magnificent castle that was truly his home. New for this year was Every-Flavour Drinks, drinks that change flavour with every sip, running through a myriad of tastes, from pumpkin juice to ear wax.  
  
***  
  
Later the group reached the Great Hall, but Harry and Hermione were intercepted by Professor McGonagall on the way in, and asked the pair to come to her office. Ron continued on to watch the Sorting Ceremony.   
  
Some of the new first years looked nervous; some looked excited and some looked like Hermione had looked, thought Ron, a bit nervous but a bit confident too.  
  
Professor Snape was this year conducting the ceremony, as McGonagall was talking to the two third-year students.  
  
"Samantha Tensenson." He glared down at the first years, trying to identify the student whose name he had called.  
  
The girl stepped forward and sat on the chair, as Snape placed the Sorting Hat on her head, which was adorned with fine blonde hair. The girl was obviously quite nervous, and Ron thought if she landed in Slytherin she'd be massacred by Malfoy.  
  
"Gryffindor!" The Sorting Hat made its decision. The girl climbed off of the stool and walked down to the Gryffindor table to applause from its occupants. Ron gestured for her to come and sit by him; he had made sure he was seated next to the destination of the new first-year Gryffindors. She moved to place herself next to Ron, and after shaking hands with many Gryffindor students, Ron addressed her.  
  
"Hi. I'm Ron Weasley. Welcome to Gryffindor!" He smiled down at her. She was considerably smaller than him. He offered her his hand.  
  
"Sam Tensenson," she replied with a little trepidation, her voice a little quiet, as she took his hand and shook it.  
  
"Let me tell you Sam, you're in the best house. Most friendly house there is, unlike that Slytherin. What's more, we've won the House Cup two years running, and we have best Quidditch team there is, not to mention the best Seeker, I'm sure you'll have heard of him – Harry Potter." Ron tried to project an ambiance of friendship towards the much more anxious young Gryffindor.  
  
"Harry Potter? I've always wanted to meet him." Her voice was filled with inspiration on hearing the famous wizard's name. As a pure-blood, as Draco Malfoy would have designated her, she was well aware of Harry's defeat of Voldemort while he was just a baby.  
  
Ron turned around at that instant, looking for his sister, whom he also wanted to introduce Samantha to, and saw Harry walking down the aisle. Obvious his meeting with Professor McGonagall was over. He turned back to face Samantha.  
  
"Well you're in luck. Here he comes now." Harry reached Ron and Samantha. "Harry, there's someone here I'd like you to meet."  
  
Harry sat down on the opposite side of Samantha as Ron continued. "This is Sam Tensenson, our newest house member. She's been looking forward to meeting you."  
  
Harry offered her his hand. She took it rather more nervously than she had any of the previous Gryffindors, and shook it.  
  
"Hi Sam. I'm Harry. Harry Potter." He smiled widely at her.  
  
"Hi Harry. I… I've always wanted to meet you," she managed, going cherry red.  
  
He smiled back at her. "Well, I'm pleased to meet you too. Welcome to Gryffindor. It's the best house there is, the friendliest…"  
  
Ron interrupted. "Err, Harry I've already given her the Gryffindor promotional speech."  
  
Harry laughed. "OK then, we'll skip that part. So Sam, if you don't mind me asking, are the rest of your family witches and wizards?"  
  
Sam responded a little more confidently. "Yes, my family is all-magic. And my parents work in the Magical Discovery Corps. My father recently worked on a dig which discovered much ancient magic. He showed me how to do something, I don't know if I can do it though…"  
  
Harry and Ron encouraged her to try, and eventually, she took out her wand. Pointing it into the air, she called out:  
  
"Inflamare spectrolia!"  
  
A small energy pulse shot into the air from the end of Sam's wand, and seemed to disappear in the air. But it expanded, and divided into red blasts which rocketed around the room for a couple of seconds, before they exploded like fireworks. The colours were wide and varied and the display was awe-inspiring.  
  
Professor Snape marched over to the table and was about to reprimand Samantha, but Dumbledore stood up and called out.  
  
"Professor Snape, I hardly think that will be necessary. The display was most impressive."  
  
Snape looked aghast at the order, but reluctantly complied. He returned to the podium.  
  
Dumbledore continued. "In fact, I believe the girl should be rewarded, not only because she was brave enough to use such a powerful spell, but to have the courage to do it here, in front of all. I award twenty points to you, Samantha."  
  
There was considerable applause and cheering from the Gryffindor table. Sam had made a good first impression on her house.  
  
On the other side of the room however, Draco Malfoy, and his goons Crabbe and Goyle, had also formed their opinions of this new Gryffindor.  
  
"Seems that Potter and the Weasley have made a new friend. We'll have to… show her the right path to follow." He sniggered.  
  
***  
  
Hermione came in a little later. Although she missed the Sorting Ceremony, she said hi to all the new members of Gryffindor House during the start-of-year feast.  
It was quite clear however, that she was still preoccupied by the events of the past couple of days. She let Harry and Ron know that she needed to speak to them after the feast, and proceeded as normally as she could hope to.  
  
At least for a while.  
  
Everyone had just gone to their dormitories for the night. Hermione was getting into bed.  
  
She heard a deafeningly loud noise.  
  
She felt a massive shockwave… 


	4. Chapter 4: Devastation

**Hermione's Letter  
Chapter 4 Revised Edition  
  
Copyright © 2003 Steven Gilks. All rights reserved.  
Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and all related scenarios and elements copyright © J.K. Rowling. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.  
  
**

**That said, everyone please R&R!  
  
**

Inside the tower which was home to all the members of Gryffindor House, there was much commotion as people scrambled out of bed and rushed down the stairs toward the communal area at the centre of the Tower. Discussion and theory were rife as the room was gradually filled with people wondering what had been the cause of the enormous shockwave that had rocked the Tower so powerfully.  
  


It was a few minutes before everyone had managed to assemble. There were now many rumours; some thought there had been an earthquake; some thought it was a very powerful thunderstorm; some thought that perhaps giants had arrived to destroy the school. The rumours and speculation, however ridiculous, continued pouring in for another ten minutes or so, and the magnitude of them increased as more people came in.  
  


But they were all nullified when Professor McGonagall Apparated into the room, along with an aura which made everyone fall silent and killed off all of the rumours and ideas that had previously been floating around. Just about everyone assembled to hear what she had to say, and soon, every set of eyes in the room was fixed on her.  
  


"I am sure you are wondering as to the cause of the disturbance we have just experienced," she began, with power in her voice.  
  


Many heads nodded at her, especially from the first years. It was their first night, and something clearly out of the ordinary was going on. _Quite a beginning for them,_ thought Hermione.  
  


Professor McGonagall continued. "There is no easy way to say it, so I'll just say it: Ravenclaw Tower has been totally obliterated from the top to the bottom. We know…"  
  


But as she attempted to continue there was a murmuring around the room. Parvati Patil was already in tears – her sister, Padma, was in Ravenclaw, and she knew the inevitable news that was soon coming. Lavender and Hermione looked after her, comforting her as best they could.  
  


McGonagall cleared her throat, and the atmosphere became silent again, in order that she could continue.  
  


"As I was saying, we know only that it was not caused by conventional means. The structure of the tower was secured properly, and tectonic movement is not capable of damaging the castle, provided it is in good condition, which it is and always has been."  
  


Again, there was a general murmuring in the room. People were now very frightened, and rumours about Voldemort started to spread around, despite the Prefects' best efforts to silence people.  
  


McGonagall called for silence again, and continued her speech.  
  


"We have considered closing the school down; however, due to a generous offer we have received, we will not need to do that. We will, however, need to leave Hogwarts until it can be safeguarded again, and the Tower can be rebuilt. Therefore, until further notice, we will educate you at a secret location. The place we are going is distant; you will need to pack clothing and all your magical equipment into your trunks, and wait here, in the Common Room. No-one, I repeat, no-one is to leave this tower for any reason, save for the Prefects, who will report directly to myself when everyone is prepared."  
  


This time, there was no movement. There was silence and looks of surprise on the faces of many Gryffindors, as this course of action had not been anticipated. Hermione, certainly, had presumed that Hogwarts would now be closed. A move to another location was almost totally unprecedented.  
  


The Professor turned to leave, and then, remembering something, turned back. With the gravest look on her face, she made one further comment.  
  


"And, I am very sorry to announce, no-one in Ravenclaw House managed to escape the devastation caused by the destruction of the Tower."  
  


She had clearly had difficulty making this last announcement, but she turned away from the members of her house, and left the Common Room, exiting via the portrait of the Fat Lady that hung in defence of Gryffindor House's tower.  
  


Silence continued to permeate the room and the people within long after McGonagall had departed. Many Gryffindors had friends in Ravenclaw; the loss of that many friends caused widespread pain. The anguish, however, was worse for Parvati Patil than for any other house member. Her twin sister, Padma, was gone, and gone forever. She simply cried into Lavender Brown's arms; there was nothing that Lavender could do but hold her tightly and try to comfort her as best she could. Hermione was almost in tears for her. To lose your twin was perhaps worse than losing a brother or sister, thought Hermione, because they had the potential to be that much closer to you. They were so much more like you.   
  
Eventually Lavender managed to guide Parvati out of the room, and Hermione wiped away a tear at Parvati's sorrow, before following them out. All three went upstairs to the girl's dormitory in silence, except for an occasional sob from Parvati, and began to collect their things together into their trunks, mere hours after they had arrived at Hogwarts. Her mind focused on the task as best it could, whilst the emotional effects of the disaster fought for control of her mind.  
  


But the task won out, and Hermione managed to bring all her things down to the Common Room in her trunk in three minutes flat.  
  


But then, it occurred to her.  
  


Her heart skipped a beat as she realised what she had to do.  
  


The events of the letter… the disasters it described… could this be one of them?  
  


She ran off quickly to find Harry and Ron. Running into them in the boy's dorm room, she sounded so urgent that they pulled her aside and used a Silencing Charm to prevent the others overhearing.  
  
She explained the parallel she'd seen with the letter, reminding them of what it had instructed her to do if - when, she corrected herself – it happened. And she knew they'd probably think she was mad for suggesting what she was…  
  


"Are you mad?" exclaimed Ron. "You heard what Professor McGonagall said."  
  


Hermione looked at him intently. "I know, but this is for more than just obeying the school rules, Ron. This is for the future of Hogwarts and perhaps the world. You need to look at the bigger picture. Do you see why this is so important? Come on Harry, get your cloak. We've gotta go, _now_!"  
  


Harry picked up the cloak with a little trepidation. "It won't take them long to realise we're gone you know. And we still don't have any proof the letter's genuine."  
  


Hermione got a little frustrated. Each of the two arguments he had just presented was a valid one, but she had a counter attack. "But, Harry, if the letter _is_ genuine, and we don't do anything, we're putting everyone's lives at risk! And if we do it quickly, they won't suspect anything. Come on!"  
  


Harry hesitated a little more, and then swung the large Invisibility Cloak around him, Ron and Hermione, instantly rendering them unseen to the naked eye. Being careful to avoid colliding with people in the hustle and bustle of the evacuating Gryffindors, they managed to successfully avoid bumping into anyone and escaped the Tower via the portrait of the Fat Lady. After carefully closing the door holding the portrait, so as to avert the creation of any noise, the group rushed off to Ravenclaw Tower as fast as they could manage without tripping over the Cloak, unseen and unheard…  
  



	5. Chapter 5: Interact & Evac

Hermione's Letter  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Copyright © 2003 Steve Gilks. All rights reserved.  
  
A/N: Sorry for the long delay between chapters. Please R&R!  
  
---  
  
Harry, Hermione and Ron, still under cloak, ran round the last corner separating themselves and Ravenclaw Tower, only to find many members of staff there, including Professor Dumbledore. Harry, who had been leading, stopped suddenly, and Hermione and Ron tripped over him. The three toppled over, only just managing to hold onto the cloak. Ron smacked hard into the cold stone floor and was knocked out cold; Hermione landed almost perfectly onto Harry.  
  
There were barely two inches between their lips; Harry felt his arousal as he stared into her deep brown eyes, as aligned with his as his lips were with hers. He had never been this close to Hermione before; it was a great thrill to him to have her body pressed up to his.  
  
But he suddenly became aware of the regular sound of footsteps. He leaned his head back and realised it was Professor Snape walking in their direction. The hearts of both Hermione and Harry pounded. If they stayed where they were, they were going to be discovered; but if they tried to move, the cloak would probably slide off their bodies and they'd be seen anyway.  
  
Hermione suddenly realised what she had to do. Pulling out her wand carefully, so as not to move the cloak too much, she whispered, "Linea leviosa!"  
  
The Invisibility Cloak wriggled about until it matched the shape of the three young magic-folk's bodies.  
  
Hermione turned back to Harry and whispered her instructions, then carefully slid off of his body. Harry felt his arousal grow as she brushed over him, and Hermione knew about it. She flashed a quick smile at him and then moved over Ron's body, coming to rest on the opposite side of the Weasley, facing down. She slid her arm around him, and Harry did the same, all the while Snape getting closer and closer, and the three getting closer and closer to being discovered…  
  
Harry and Hermione stood up, struggling to pull up the weight of Ron with them. The cloak continued to match their adapting body shape, until they finally managed to stand tall. Quickly moving to the side, they leaned on the wall, just about managing to keep Ron upright.  
  
Snape walked briskly through the area where the three had been lying, and slightly further on down the corridor, taking a quick look down the ajoining corridors, and then went back to examining the wreckage with the other staff members.  
  
Hermione whispered, very, very carefully, to Harry.  
  
"That was close. Very close."  
  
"How did you know that spell Hermione?" Harry enquired.  
  
"It was on that instruction sheet that came with the letter. They said… or rather I said… that this was going to happen."  
  
Harry looked at her. "This would seem to prove the message is real. Either that or someone with good Divination skills wrote it, and to be honest, I don't really believe in that, and I know you don't."  
  
She smiled back briefly in agreement. Things that didn't make logical sense didn't work well with Hermione.   
  
"We've gotta get Ron to safety somewhere. We can't go on carrying him." Hermione pointed out.  
  
Harry countered. "But if we take him back to the tower it'll take too long and we won't have enough time!"  
  
Hermione nodded, and then remembered something Ron had always found difficult.  
  
Again articulating her wand, her spell was cast. "Winguardium Leviosa!"  
  
Ron's previously limp body began to float in the air, with the cloak still matching his movements. Hermione let go, swiftly followed by Harry, and his body remained in the air.  
  
"OK, I'll direct him with my wand, you follow my movements, ok?" Hermione commanded.  
  
Harry indicated his agreement, and Hermione's delicate hand gradually swept around until it pointed forward. Ron's body and the cloak followed it, and Harry moved in closer and stood next to Hermione, so as the cloak would still cover the three of them. Slowly and carefully, they moved forward, towards the Ravenclaw tower base, once more. Circumnavigating the myriad of teachers there, they swept through to the centre.  
  
As they did so, Hermione's free hand reached out and found Harry's, and he gripped her hand. A shudder made its way down Hermione's back as she continued, a result of both the devastation, and of the sensation of physical contact with Harry. The warmth of his palm was a calming influence to her – the burden of responsibility was enormous for a third-year student.  
  
It seemed her future self had been correct, at least about one thing.  
  
***  
  
Back in the Gryffindor tower the Prefects were trying to round everyone up. Nearly all the students, first-years included, had managed to prepare themselves quickly and hastily, and were assembled in the common room, but a few were still readying themselves. And there was plenty of conversation.  
  
"How did she manage to Apparate in here? I thought no-one could Apparate in school!"  
  
"Do you think I'll need to bring my makeup kit?"  
  
"Does this necklace work, or should I wear this one?"  
  
"Do you think it's you-know-who?"  
  
There was plenty of conversation, except around young Samantha Tensenson, who was standing with her trunk, alone in a room full of people. Her nerves kept getting the better of her; she couldn't talk with people because she kept stammering, and she felt anxiety a good deal of the time.  
  
Except around Harry and Hermione and especially Ron, who was her first friend at Hogwarts, who had extended a hand to her, and had been one of only three who had taken to her immediately.  
  
It seemed to her that she hadn't managed to fit in with her Gryffindor companions, even though barely one night had passed since she had joined them.  
  
She thought to herself. I've failed.  
  
***  
  
The prefects came back in from the dorm rooms at that point with the few remaining people, who had now apparently finished their business. These last assembled with the others; the Prefects went to the front to check everyone off. They had lists of all the Gryffindors in front of them, and were ticking off the names.  
  
All but three, anyway. Harry, Hermione and Ron had still to assemble.  
  
Sam started worrying about them; she cared deeply for the hard-working Hermione, the kind-hearted Ron and the courageous Harry more than anyone else at Hogwarts. Where were they? She suspected that they'd gone take a look at the Tower; she'd heard of their exploits in the past. The Whomping Willow incident the previous year was known even to her.  
  
The Prefects finished checking off the list, noting the absences. One of them came over to Sam.  
  
"Sam, you're friends with Harry aren't you? Any idea where he went?"  
  
Sam froze. She hadn't really anticipated this question. And she knew she couldn't tell them where she imagined they were, so she did her best to think up a response.  
  
"I… I think they went down to the Quidditch changing rooms. Harry said he'd left his broom there, he wanted to fetch it."  
  
The Prefect tutted. "Better go get him." He let the other Prefect know where he was going, and left the Gryffindor tower.  
  
Sam breathed a little sigh of relief a few minutes later when Harry, Ron and Hermione came down the stairs. Ron was still quite groggy from his fall, and there was no hiding it. The remaining Prefect stared at them in surprise, moving to question them.  
  
"How did you get up there? Sam said you were down at the Quidditch changing rooms!" She was quite clearly angry at the triad.  
  
Harry covered it. "Err… we flew back up. The Nimbus 2000 doubles as a good regular broom, you know."  
  
"And what happened to you, Ron? You look like you've been hit by a herd of stampeding concrete elephants!" There was a clear purple mark on Ron's forehead, a result of his impact with the harsh stone flooring, although the Prefect's analysis of it was clearly overemphasised.  
  
Ron did his best to look up to the Prefect. "I… I…" He couldn't make his answer.   
  
Hermione stepped in for him. "He fell off the broom. Hit his head."  
  
The Prefect had apparently accepted both explanations, as she instructed the three to get their trunks and prepare to leave. The other Prefect arrived meanwhile, and also seemed to accept the explanations as fact. In any case, they really didn't have time to argue. The female one made the journey to verify the house's readiness for the trip with Professor McGonagall, whilst Harry, Ron and Hermione joined Sam in the Common Room.  
  
A few minutes later, the call came for everyone in Gryffindor House to proceed to the Quidditch field, where awaiting them would be their ride out of the area.  
  
On arrival at the area they found a very curious form of transport awaiting them.  
  
It consisted of a dragon-like creature, and a very, very large one at that, the size of the entire playing field, with a huge carriage on its back, not unlike the carriages that used to be drawn by horses in the Victorian era. There were two more of these dragons and carriages in the air, waiting to land and pick up their precious cargoes.  
  
Professor McGonagall, supervising the Gryffindor evacuation, ordered everyone to board the carriage. There were masses of rooms inside, and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Samantha found a room near the centre of the carriage. The rooms were perfectly sized for four people, but to the quartet's surprise, on entry to the room they discovered four beds rather than four seats. This truly was excellent transport, especially for an emergency situation.  
  
A large golden key to the door hung inside the room; once they had entered, and dragged their cases in, Harry locked the door and replaced the key on its hook.  
  
Everyone had questions, but no-one cared to voice them in the group's current residence. Ron needed to get some rest, Hermione's eyes were almost closed, Sam was worn out after her first day, and Harry... he decided he needed some sleep too. Perhaps he would dream, perhaps even about the one he knew in his heart he wanted…  
  
They all fell asleep.  
  
But Hermione was once again disturbed during the night; the indefinable figure of her dreams returned to her. She'd made another effort to catch him; this time she chased him on Harry's Nimbus 2000, but she couldn't catch him, and again he escaped into the darkness.  
  
She was just too tired that night though.  
  
She fell back asleep. 


	6. Chapter 6: The Next Morning

Hermione's Letter  
  
by Steve  
  
Copyright © 2003 Steve Gilks. All rights reserved.  
  
Chapter 6  
  
The next morning Samantha was the first to awaken. She climbed out of her bed, and moved to open the curtains – and realised there weren't any. It then occurred to her that she was still on the makeshift transport vessel.  
  
Still in her Hogwarts robes from the previous night's sorting ceremony, she moved away from the bed, and collected the key from its hook. Unlocking the door, she stepped out into the corridor.  
  
She glanced at her silver wristwatch; it showed five thirty. Not many people would be up at this hour. The corridor outside of her room was empty, and Samantha could hear nothing that sounded even remotely like a footstep or a yawn.  
  
She closed the door and locked it, taking the old, rusty key with her, and headed for the front of the carriage. Stepping quietly so as to avoid waking anyone else, she had almost reached her destination when she heard a sound from her left.  
  
The door of a room she was passing opened slowly and a young second-year with fiery red hair poked her head out. Sam recognized the face of Ginny Weasley and smiled at her. She hadn't yet met Ginny, but had of course heard of her encounter with Tom Riddle the previous year.  
  
Ginny returned the gesture and stepped out into the corridor too, also in her school outfit. She locked her door and pocketed the somewhat better kept key.  
  
Her bright smile had filled Samantha with feelings of warmth, and she was confident enough to speak.  
  
"I was just going to the front. You know, to see where we are. Would you like to join me?" She waited in anticipation for the response.  
  
Ginny nodded. "Let's go. I'd like to know where we are too. You're Sam, right?" She offered her a hand.  
  
"Yeah," Sam answered, taking Ginny's hand and shaking it as she did so.  
  
After the handshake they traversed the remaining corridors toward the front of the wooden-floored carriage. It was almost like the lower decks of an old Muggle sailing ship in its construction.  
  
The wooden nature of the ship continued until the pair reached the front of the ship, which consisted not of brown wood, but of a colourless material.  
  
Both girls expressed a little shock to see this; there were no support frames holding the glass-like substance in place. But it was what lay beyond that was of more shock to the young Gryffindors.  
  
The sky and the clouds loomed still outside the window. The dragon-like creature carrying them was also visible, its long brown and green neck projecting itself far ahead of the carriage, with its enormous ovular head and three-pointed ears adorning the end.  
  
"We're still in the air? I'd have sworn we'd have landed by now," Ginny exclaimed.  
  
"How far are we going?" wondered Sam out loud.  
  
"A long way, so everyone will be safe."  
  
The stern voice of Professor McGonagall, wearing her usual apparel, interrupted their conversation. She had been sleeping in the end cabin, and was in command of the Gryffindor transport.  
  
"We'll be travelling for another day and night yet. Fortunately these transports are fully prepared for long journeys. At the very back of the transport and on the lower level, there is a canteen where you can get something to eat. I suggest you go there; the canteen is open at all times until we reach the safehaven."  
  
Both girls nodded to acknowledge and proceeded apace away from the front of the ship.  
  
***  
  
Hermione was next to awaken. She pressed her hand to her head, realising a powerful headache had manifested itself there. She sighed and dug through her trunk for an analgesic, at last finding a bottle of green syrup, labelled Mandragora Migraine Masher. She removed the cap, and filled it with the substance, which had the consistency of thick custard.  
  
She swallowed it, and replaced the cap. Seconds later a wave of green light emitted from her head, dragging behind it what resembled a red cloud. A second green blast followed it, and the two energy fields crushed the red one until it disappeared. They too dissolved away. Hermione felt better – the headache was literally gone.  
  
She pulled out her wand and waved it in the air, simply revelling in the little sparkles of radiant light emitting from it. She had found that swinging her wand in this manner made many wonderful and soothing images in the air; even if they dissolved away in seconds.  
  
She noticed the empty bed next to hers, and decided to see where Samantha had gone. Glancing over at where the key had been, she noticed its absence.  
  
A locked door posed no threat to Hermione. She picked up her wand and twice created a circle in the air with it before casting "Alohamora!" The locking mechanism in the door disengaged quietly, allowing Hermione to turn the handle and pull open the old timber door.  
  
Stepping out gently into the corridor, she turned her head back for a moment to glance over at Harry, lying still in the corner of the room; dozens of what-if scenarios started pouring into her head much like water pouring into a cup.  
  
She turned away again and walked out of the door, closing it gently behind her.  
  
***  
  
Seven o' clock: many people remained in the comfort of their beds, sleeping off the disturbance and the celebration. Ron was fast asleep; Harry, who had just awoken, doubted he would awaken any time soon. His injury would require time to heal.  
  
Harry remembered the previous night; the spells they performed in the wrecked remains of Ravenclaw Tower; Ron's hard landing on the stone floor; the surge of feeling he had when Hermione passed over him. If there had been any doubt in his mind before, it was most definitely gone now; it was Hermione he wanted. Sure, he found other girls attractive – Cho Chang, Alicia Spinnet, Ron's sister Ginny; but no one had quite the same effect on him as Hermione.   
  
The thought of her fine, brown, wavy hair; her deep brown eyes and her perfectly-formed body… it was just a wonderful image. He was hard pressed to drag himself away from it. But right now, a terrible burden rested on Hermione's shoulders; and he had to put those feelings to one side.  
  
It would be difficult. Very difficult.  
  
But he would try.  
  
He would try.  
  
***  
  
Hermione had strolled around the transport, and eventually had caught up with Ginny and Samantha in the dining hall. She had observed that the first year and second year were getting along really well; they really seemed to bounce off of one another. Hermione was glad for the both of them; that Ginny had made a new friend, and that Samantha wouldn't be condemned to exile from the other students.  
  
The third year student really didn't know why Samantha had not been accepted by the other Gryffindors. Perhaps it was her shyness, or her impressive demonstration of her magical talents in the Great Hall at the Sorting Ceremony; but discrimination of that nature was much more frequently associated with the Slytherins, not the brave and bold Gryffindors.  
  
Still, Samantha now had one friend, Hermione thought; there's only one direction from there – up.  
  
Her mind suddenly flashing back to the Slytherins, she realised that they had yet to prove whether or not the letter was from Draco Malfoy. However, she remembered, even Lucius Malfoy was unlikely to have the kind of destructive power that had recently been observed at Hogwarts. She decided to abandon the test, although for a reason that escaped her, she couldn't eliminate those doubts about Draco from her mind.  
  
It can't have been him, she kept telling herself.  
  
***  
  
Hermione had selected a large mug of coffee, sans milk, a bowl of Wizard-O's, a cereal which seemed to appeal to her; chocolate was indeed one of her favourite things, and for a second course, four slices of toast, layered with butter and marmalade. It was her typical breakfast, if truth be told, except the coffee. Normally she took orange juice, avoiding caffeine-based beverages. She had once heard about someone who consumed endless cups of coffee; it caused the person to take reckless chances and to ignore her friends, even in the greatest of danger, and Hermione had most certainly decided that was not going to happen to her.  
  
Ginny had simply taken an entire rack of toast and a jug of orange juice, and marched over to a table to eat. She was really hungry, even in the aftermath of the welcoming feast the previous night. She, too, was a fan of orange juice, and consumed a sometimes worrying amount of it. When asked why she liked orange juice so much, she simply said, "I need to keep my hair from losing its colour."  
  
Samantha had taken, like Hermione, a bowl of Wizard-Os, but with a honey flavouring, rather than the chocolate preferred by the older girl. Her choice of beverage was quite different, however, to both her friends; she had ordered a hot chocolate. A wizard's, or in this case a witch's, hot chocolate, was far superior to a Muggle's; the chocolate was adaptive.   
  
You only had to tap the cup with your wand, and say the type of chocolate you wanted, and the flavouring would alter itself to your liking. Samantha's preference was a very rich Russian type.  
  
Hermione, Samantha and Ginny decided, after finishing their breakfasts that they would return to Hermione and Samantha's room and would see if Harry and Ron were awake yet.  
  
The group had almost completed the trek back to the room shared by Hermione, Harry, Ron and Sam when they heard footsteps, and saw Professor McGonagall marching towards them, double-time. Hermione nodded to the Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor house, and politely said good morning. Professor McGonagall replied in the same fashion, and then inquired as to the health of Ron.  
  
How did she know? thought Hermione. More to the point, does she know how he got the injury?  
  
"He's recovering in bed. There wasn't time to get him to Madam Pomfrey last night. Is she on our transport?"  
  
"I'm afraid not. Madam Pomfrey is aboard the Hufflepuff transport. We'll get him over there, though. I want that head of his looked at; make sure he wasn't too badly injured. I've arranged for the two transports to fly closely enough to each other so that we can simply take him across via the doors. It will be done after everyone has had breakfast."  
  
Sam and Ginny just looked at McGonagall, deciding to let Hermione handle the situation. Although Sam knew what had really happened, Ginny didn't yet know how Ron had been injured. Hermione had promised to tell her when they were out of sight and hearing of everyone else, just in case someone was eavesdropping.  
  
Professor McGonagall moved to depart, but she aborted her movements when Hermione addressed her again.  
  
"Professor, how much longer will the trip take, do you think?"  
  
McGonagall turned her head to Hermione.  
  
"About one more day. Provided everything proceeds according to plan."  
  
She turned her head back and headed off, transfiguring herself into a cat as she moved off, in order that she might attain more velocity.  
  
The three girls exchanged glances, and then continued on their journey back to quarters.  
  
On entering the room they discovered Harry awake. Hermione was first to enter; Harry looked up to see who was coming in, and his glance locked with Hermione's; they stared into each other's eyes.  
  
So much feeling communicated in one moment.  
  
Hermione suddenly realised the two girls were still behind her, and moved to sit down on her bed. Ginny and Sam entered the room and closed the door; Sam replaced the key on its hook.  
  
The two younger girls sat on Sam's bed; Hermione sat on her own.  
  
Harry welcomed them. "Hey Herm, Sam, Ginny. Been for breakfast yet?"  
  
"Yeah," replied Hermione. "You on the other hand, haven't. And you need to keep your strength up. Join me?"  
  
"Sure," said Harry a little too enthusiastically. He climbed off of the bed and walked out of the door, followed by Hermione.  
  
Sam and Ginny exchanged another glance, and a cheeky smile. 


	7. Chapter 7: Time for Breakfast

Hermione's Letter  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Copyright © 2003 Steve Gilks. All rights reserved.  
  
Please R&R everyone! Thanks for the reviews I've had so far!  
  
***  
  
Harry and Hermione arrived in the dining hall just five minutes later. By now, there was a larger number of Gryffindors present; people were waking up with rumbling stomachs, and were proceeding to the hall to remedy the situation.  
  
  
  
Harry and Hermione entered the hall and Hermione found them spaces to sit whilst Harry walked over to the food table to get some breakfast; his consisted of a full English breakfast, including ruby red tomatoes, sizzling bacon, hot hash browns, perfectly formed fried eggs, fried bread, mushy baked beans, a couple of long, thick, succulent sausages, and a nice cup of steaming hot tea.  
  
Hermione frowned when she saw the enormous plateful, which was comparable to the size of an elephant's foot. "Harry! You shouldn't be eating all these greasy foods!"  
  
"Hey, it can't hurt once in a while," was Harry's response.  
  
Hermione let it go. After all, he was right. Once in a while was ok.  
  
So she accepted it and moved on.  
  
"So, what's going on?" he asked her.  
  
Hermione explained to Harry what McGonagall had told her about the journey, which was admittedly very little. They knew they were on a massive dragon-based transport and heading to an unknown destination, and that it was for their protection, but little more than that. She had also told Harry that Ginny and Samantha had made friends, to which he had declared himself to be of the opinion that it was a good thing for both of them. Sam needed friends, and Ginny… she did too. Additionally, Harry secretly thought to himself, with looks like that she should be reeling the boys in…  
  
His eyes wandered around the room for a moment as he thought, and then they found Hermione, who of course was sitting in front of him. The pupils adorning the centre of the bright green eyes danced up and down Hermione's body gracefully as Harry admired her perfect figure.  
  
How had he not seen this before? Had he been blind? Hermione was attractive. And he'd entirely missed it.  
  
His eyes found their way to her deep brown eyes, and met her gaze; she was staring at him too.  
  
He suddenly became aware of her bright voice.  
  
"Harry! Have you been listening to me?" She reached across the table and nudged him on the shoulder.  
  
He tried to regain his composure. "Sorry Hermione, you were saying?"   
  
A little voice in his head was speaking to him. Harry, pull yourself together! You're drifting!  
  
"I was saying how your Nimbus 2000 has been given to Ron, as he is now Gryffindor Seeker," Hermione said very calmly and rationally. "Professor Dumbledore made the decision this morning, he said it was for your safety; Professor McGonagall seems to agree with him."  
  
Harry couldn't believe his ears.  
  
"WHAT?!" he screamed out, "Ron is Gryffindor Seeker?" His face went bright red with rage. "That Dumbledore… what made him do that?! Who is he to determine the Gryffindor team? And McGonagall… agreeing with him? I'll see she's thrown off the transport for this!"  
  
Hermione smiled and although she tried valiantly, failed to suppress a little giggle.  
  
Harry saw the smirk on her face, and almost growled at her. "Hermione Granger, you are evil! That was unfair!" His face returned to its normal colour.  
  
Hermione kept smiling. "Just making sure you were still with us. You looked like you were dozing off again. Maybe you've been enjoying your dreams so much you want to fall back asleep."  
  
"No, I want to be with you," Harry said calmly, without thinking.  
  
It was Hermione's turn to go pink. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.  
  
"Ummm… what did you just say?"  
  
"I said, umm… did I really say that?" Harry managed. He started to go bright red again.  
  
"Yes, you did Harry." Hermione had never been so nervous in her life, not even on results day at Hogwarts. Her worst fear had been of getting a bad mark in even one of her exams, until now. "Ummm… did you mean it?"  
  
"Well… ummm…" Harry managed to say, before Colin Creevey came in, quickly followed by a flash of his camera, an item that seemed impossible to live without for the second-year who constantly seemed to be in a state of hyperactivity.  
  
"Hi Harry!" He greeted Gryffindor's real Seeker as cheerily as ever. He also addressed Hermione, although not with quite as much enthusiasm as Harry.  
  
"Hiya Colin," Harry responded. He grabbed a rack of toast from the food table, and went to join them.  
  
Hermione stood up to leave. Harry looked up at her, willing her to stay. He didn't want to eat his breakfast alone with Colin, and he needed to talk to her know.  
  
"I'll see you later, Harry. Bye, Colin," she said quietly, and marched off through the doors, heading towards her shared room.  
  
Harry's head fell as soon as she left, but remembering Colin was still there, he tried not to make it too obvious. He picked up his fork, and twisted a piece of bacon round and round on its points.  
  
Colin started chatting animatedly to Harry. Harry thought to himself, what I wouldn't give for a little distraction, come on, even Malfoy, or Peeves throwing water bombs at me, anything…  
  
As it happened, his prayers were answered. Hedwig, his snowy white owl, had flown in through the window, with two envelopes neatly tied to her left leg.  
  
Harry removed the envelopes from Hedwig, allowing her to eat some of his gargantuan breakfast as he opened them.  
  
The first was from Professor McGonagall.  
  
Harry,  
  
Report to my room as soon as breakfast is over. I need to discuss something with you, Hermione, and Ron, if he's awake.  
  
  
  
Professor McGonagall  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows, before it became obvious to him. Their last night at Hogwarts… McGonagall must have known…  
  
He sighed, and tuned out of Colin's speech. Colin had turned to his left now; Seamus Finnegan and Neville Longbottom had arrived, and the second-year photographer had turned his attentions to them.  
  
The second envelope was totally yellow, and a small black badger wax imprint had been used to seal it; Harry knew therefore that this would likely have come from someone in Hufflepuff house, perhaps its head, Professor Sprout.  
  
He carefully opened the envelope, and pulled out a similarly coloured sheet of parchment. He began to read:  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
My name is Hannah Abbott, you don't know me that well as I'm in Hufflepuff but, anyway, what I mean to say is, I need to talk to you. I understand that Gryffindor and Hufflepuff transports are docking with each other later today; I wondered if you'd be so kind as to meet me then? I'll meet you on the other side of the airlock. Let me know if you can make it by return owl.  
  
Hannah  
  
This was certainly confusing. Harry remembered Hannah Abbott from Herbology; she was a pretty girl with long blonde hair, somewhat quiet, but friendly enough.  
  
At first he thought she might have wanted to talk to him about Lord Voldemort; maybe she thought he might be coming back. But he decided that was unlikely, and he made the decision therefore that he would meet the girl.  
  
He wrote back on a strip of parchment ripped from the bottom of Hannah's letter:  
  
Dear Hannah,  
  
Yes, I'll meet you. See you later.  
  
Harry  
  
He tied the note to Hedwig's other leg, so as the left one would be able to rest, and gave Hedwig a pat on the head. She nibbled his fingers affectionately, and flew off back out of the window.  
  
"See you later, everyone," he said to Seamus, Neville and Colin and left the hall, his appetite seeming to have Disapparated.  
  
***  
  
Hermione could not believe what Harry had just said. "No, I want to be with you." She knew he'd felt aroused when she'd slid her curvy body over him, but she thought that was just because he was male, and after all, she had to admit to herself, she was attractive, no matter what people like Pansy Parkinson said.  
  
Still that memory stood out in her mind.  
  
Then, she thought, why did Colin have to come along and ruin things? She could've admitted how she felt there and then. Crisis or no crisis, it seemed to her that love was love. She'd felt considerable surges of emotion simply touching Harry; that hug during first year felt very nice, thought Hermione on reflection. So warm, so comfortable, so right, so perfect.  
  
But now she felt uneasy thinking about him. She wasn't entirely sure why; Hermione, pretty as she was, had never been noticed back in the Muggle world, and until now not in her tenure at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The sentiment of uneasiness was not nice; her stomach tossed and turned like a rowing boat on a wild sea; and she was constantly worried that she would decorate the walls of the Gryffindor transport with the Wizard-O's, toast, and coffee she had had at breakfast that morning. The turbulent torrents of emotion had arrived and generated their associated physical effects with alarming velocity.  
  
And, considering she had never experienced it before, Hermione was remarkably clear headed about what she had to do.  
  
She had to go and talk to him.  
  
She reached the door of her room, and opened it, entering to find Ginny and Sam inside, with Ron still asleep on the bed, snoring lightly. She gently closed the door, and walked over to Ron, examining the deep purple bruise carefully. It almost seemed to be fighting to get free of Ron's forehead; the pulses of blood travelling in the vessels underneath the wound caused it to rise up and down on every pulse.  
  
Hermione pulled out her wand, pointed it at the wound, and cast her spell. "Blessa reducta!" The bump shrunk down only a little; not having much experience with medical magic, Hermione couldn't expect to be able to do much.  
  
It was only then that Hermione spoke to Sam and Ginny.  
  
"Hi Sam. Hi Ginny. What've you been up to?"  
  
Ginny clearly had a guilty look on her face. Sam was struggling to suppress a giggle.  
  
"Oh, nothing, nothing," Ginny replied, just about managing to stop herself cracking up with laughter herself.  
  
Hermione grinned at them both. You're up to something…, she thought, it had better not involve me! The truth was that she was grateful for any distraction, even if it was a practical joke being planned by Ginny and Sam. Ginny was being influenced too much by her twin brothers, Fred and George, Hermione decided. I need to have a talk with them…  
  
All three of them stirred as they heard a knock on the door. It was such a gentle knock that one might not class it as a knock at all, but rather as a light tap.  
  
Sam got up from her bed and opened the door. She couldn't see anyone at first… till a large brown owl flew over her head and landed on Hermione's shoulder, hooting brightly; it was very proud of itself for having delivered the scroll attached to its left leg to the correct person. Hermione undid the letter, and read it aloud to the girls; it contained much the same material as Harry's.  
  
Since she had already eaten, Hermione set off immediately. Leaving Ron behind, as he was obviously in no fit state for a meeting, she opened the door once more and marched out into the corridor, and straight into Harry, who had set off to see Professor McGonagall too. She lost her footing and fell back through the door, landing on her backside on the hard wooden floor.  
  
"Owww!" she cried.  
  
Harry offered her a hand, and she took it gratefully. She felt a surge of emotion run through her body as he pulled her up; it was as if a burst of electrical energy (a Muggle invention that powered some of their magical alternatives) had passed through her body at the moment, and she felt her ears turn pink.  
  
When she was again standing, he gazed into her bright eyes, and she into his; a moment of pure bliss, pure emotion. It was just a moment, the smallest instant; but it said so much to both of them.  
  
"Thanks," Hermione mumbled to Harry. "And sorry, I didn't mean to run into you." She smiled at him, his eyes still focused on hers. She suddenly realised the extent of what he felt for her; his gaze was speaking without words.  
  
Harry smiled back, releasing her smooth hand from his firm grip.  
  
"It's ok. Were you on the way to see Professor McGonagall too?" he asked her.  
  
She nodded her reply, adding that Ron was still asleep.  
  
"OK, best to let him sleep. Madam Pomfrey always makes me sleep when I have an injury. I could have a parchment cut and I'd be in bed for at least an hour, sleeping it off."  
  
Hermione giggled. Shaking her head and still smiling, she said, "Come on. Let's go."  
  
As Hermione and Harry trotted off down the corridor together, Ginny closed the door to their cabin.  
  
"Aren't they so obviously in love with each other?" she said to Sam, who was grinning insanely at what she had just seen.  
  
"They so are," chuckled Sam. "I think our plan… will be a great success." 


	8. Chapter 8: Meeting Hannah

Hermione's Letter  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Copyright © 2003 Steve Gilks. All rights reserved.  
  
Please R&R everyone!  
  
***  
  
Harry and Hermione reached the door of Professor McGonagall's room aboard the Gryffindor transport. Her room was right at the front, in full view of the large window which showed what was ahead. The pair took a moment to marvel over the sight of the early morning sky before tentatively knocking on the door.  
  
"Enter," said the stern voice of the head of Gryffindor house, and the teacher of Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, from inside the cabin's four solid wooden walls.  
  
Hermione took the door handle and turned it to the right, pushing on it as she did so, and the door opened gracefully. There were no squeaks on this door, although the internal state of the room was little different to that of the students' room. Professor McGonagall had placed various objects around the room, and there was only one bed in this room, but these changes aside, it was identical to Harry and Hermione's habitation.  
  
Professor McGonagall was stood in front of the wall opposite to the bed, with her usual stern look on her face. On their entry she gestured to Harry and Hermione to sit down on the bed, not having any chairs to offer them. They sat themselves down rather nervously, not knowing for certain why the Professor had invited them, but having a fair idea of the reason. Rather suddenly, she commenced.  
  
"I'm sure you have some idea as to why I invited you here; just to be certain, I'll tell you now. Myself and Professor Dumbledore are aware yourselves and your friend Ronald Weasley were present at the investigation into the destruction of Ravenclaw Tower last night; even before Ron fell, Albus had seen you. He is not to be fooled by Invisibility Cloaks or most methods of rendering oneself unseen to the naked eye, such is his power." Her intonation indicated her respect for the magical ability which Professor Dumbledore possessed; he was often labelled the only one who the feared Lord Voldemort was afraid of.  
  
"We also know that you performed a spell, an incantation of some kind. Since you were whispering the spell, we were unable to ascertain what it was. It appeared to have no visible effects, but nevertheless, I must know what you did that night." She folded her arms and focused her eyes on Harry, before directing her glance at Hermione as well.  
  
Harry looked at Hermione, and could tell she was trying to find a way out of telling Professor McGonagall the truth. 'Tell no one…' the letter had said. What could she say?  
  
"We were performing an Honouring Charm, Professor," Hermione lied. "We wanted to honour the memory of those who had died in the accident, but we knew we'd never be given permission, and we didn't know how long we'd have to wait before everyone goes back to Hogwarts, so we, er, snook out using the Invisibility Cloak to perform the charm before we left." She looked straight into Professor McGonagall's eyes.  
  
McGonagall turned and walked to the other end of her room and back again, with the gazes of Harry and Hermione following her, before she responded.  
  
"Very well. I trust you to tell me the truth, Miss Granger, so I shall accept your explanation, and forgo punishing the three of you, on the grounds that you give me your word you will not do similar things in the future. It is dangerous to do such things; there could have been further structural collapses, or the aftermaths of charms that could harm you. Do I have your word?"  
  
Hermione nodded and gave her word to the Professor. Harry also promised for himself and on Ron's behalf.  
  
Professor McGonagall nodded too. "Now that I have dealt with that, I must inform you that I have arranged the dock with the Hufflepuff transport to occur at nine thirty hours precisely. I must ask that you bring Ron to the docking port at nine twenty. Yourselves, Ginny, and Fred and George if they must, will be allowed to go across with him."  
  
Hermione spoke up almost immediately. "Professor, could I ask that you let Samantha Tensenson come too? I happen to know she cares about Ron a lot, he looked after her when she was sorted into our house."  
  
The Professor nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes, that will be fine. I suggest you get going; it is nearly nine o' clock now."  
  
Harry and Hermione nodded to McGonagall and left the room without another word. Not believing how lucky how they were to get away with having directly disobeyed her instructions without any punishment whatsoever, they headed back to their room in silence.  
  
***  
  
At nine-twenty hours, Harry, Hermione, Samantha, Ginny, Fred and George had arrived with Ron bound to a stretcher conjured up by Hermione, which was hovering toute seule in the air next to the docking port which was to be used for the transfer. The Hufflepuff transport was maintaining position five metres away from the docking port, trying to align its starboard side interconnector with the Gryffindor port side one. The procedure was a tricky one; it was not usually implemented unless absolutely necessary, but it was not impossible, and Professor McGonagall had the necessary skills to complete it.  
  
Samantha and Ginny were stood slightly back from the rest; they were quietly chatting and giggling. Hermione's thoughts wandered back to the moment she had walked into her room earlier and found the two girls in a state of what could only be described as 'deviously plotting something', and wondered if she was observing an encore.  
  
She was about to ask Fred and George for a word in private, when Professor McGonagall turned the corner and entered the docking area.  
  
"Good, you're all here," she said, glancing round at the students. It was quite a congregation in such a small place; the airlock was only two metres by three metres in size. The door was barely wider than the stretcher on which Ron was lying. Looking first to the stretcher and then to the door, Hermione wasn't sure that Ron would be able to pass through it. But then she saw Professor McGonagall raise her wand, and take control of the levitating Ron, opening the side door with a large golden key. The door seemed to be stuck at first, before swinging open and fixing itself to the inside wall of a small conduit which currently led to the open air. Looking through the conduit, Hermione could just about see the opposite conduit, which was moving closer and closer. Three metres… two metres… one metre…  
  
The conduit magically joined the other one to form a cylindrical tube between the two transports. There was no evidence of a join in the middle; it was as if the two transports had physically melded.  
  
Professor McGonagall directed everyone to stand back. "This is the most dangerous part. If the next procedure is performed incorrectly, the conduit will be ripped apart and will create a backflow of debris into both transports," she informed the waiting crowd.  
  
She pointed her wand into the conduit, and called, "Aumento conduito!"  
  
A beam of blue energy came forth from her wand's tip and raced into the tunnel, smashing into a similarly-coloured beam from the other side. The convergence erupted, causing energy to splash onto the conduit's walls, and it started to shake and convulse. Blue energy waves started to sweep up the lengths of the cylinder, the shaking and convulsions becoming ever more acute.  
  
Suddenly, it all stopped.  
  
Hermione though to herself that maybe it hadn't worked, but her opinion was soon the direct opposite.  
  
The conduit changed from a small cylinder to a large rectangular walkway. It was much like the corridors around the transport, except slightly narrower. It was composed of the same woodwork, and had the same wall-mounted candles for lighting.  
  
Professor McGonagall tapped the floor of the conduit three times with the heel of her shoe and then declared it fit for crossing. She resumed controlling Ron's stretcher and directed it through the conduit, to the waiting Professor Sprout, who had cast the opposing blue beam from the Hufflepuff transport. She pulled the stretcher in using her wand, and following its transfer, the Gryffindor party transferred too with their Professor.  
  
Hannah Abbott was waiting for Harry on the Hufflepuff side; she nodded to Harry as he completed the journey between transports. It took only a minute for everyone to cross onto the other side. Professors McGonagall and Sprout took off immediately to the Hospital Section, directing Ron with their wands carefully down the corridors. Ginny, Fred, George and Sam followed after them. Hermione hesitated when Harry walked over to Hannah instead of following; the latter had a very distressed look on her face. Harry explained to Hermione about the letter; Hermione decided it was best to leave them to it, as long as he promised to come and see Ron as soon as possible, which Harry did.  
  
It was, however, to be a somewhat lesser time than Harry expected before he saw Ron and Hermione again.  
  
Hannah and Harry walked down the opposite corridor to the remainder of the Gryffindor party, and entered a small room off to the left of one of the corridors. The room was vacant, which although mildly surprising, was not entirely unexpected. There was a single bed and a table with a lone chair positioned neatly underneath it, but there were no other belongings present in the room, which looked somewhat disused. It was darker than most of the rooms, the walls had no shine to them, unlike most of the cabins and corridors of both the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff transports, and it was rather a cramped room, to say the least.  
  
Harry took up the chair, which creaked as he sat on it, and Hannah lay down on the bed, her head on the musty old pillow, which was coloured grey, and provided a total contrast to Hannah's vibrant blonde hair, which when she stood tall, reached halfway down her slender body.  
  
Harry wondered why he seemed to miss certain… features of the female gender. His eyes were wandering again.  
  
Hannah's soft voice managed to bring him back to the real world.  
  
"Harry, you in there?" she said with a touch of sharpness, so as to try and bring him around.  
  
Harry did his best to hide what he had been doing, although he couldn't prevent a little bit of pink tone settling itself in on his face. He prayed that Hannah wouldn't notice…  
  
"Yeah. Sorry, I've, er, been a bit distracted since Ron's accident," he lied. "So, why did you want to see me?" he enquired.  
  
Hannah breathed in deeply, followed by exhaling just as powerfully.  
  
"Well, this is a bit hard for me to say, so bear with me, ok? I… erm, well, there's this boy, he's a Gryffindor, and I think I've fallen in love with him. But I need some help, I'm quite shy, you know, I need some help on getting his attention. I don't think he even notices me. It's not as if I'm attractive, or anything."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows at her last statement. Hannah was a very attractive girl; her hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall; it was golden and shined brightly, even in the dim light of the disused cabin; her face was unblemished, and she was filled out in all the right places.  
  
But he had to know who it was.  
  
"Hannah, which Gryffindor have you fallen for?" he asked, blushing slightly at the coincidental rhyme in his sentence. He didn't want Hannah to think he was making fun of her.  
  
"It's…" she began, but was thrown off the bed and rolled over to the door, hitting it hard. The whole cabin was now on an incline. Harry was thrown from his chair and rolled along the floor, eventually rolling on top of Hannah. The incline was at least 60 degrees and it was impossible to move. Hannah was drifting in and out of consciousness, her eyes were struggling to remain open, such had been the force of the impact. Harry, too, had hit his head, but although he was able to maintain consciousness, he couldn't figure out what to do.  
  
The two of them lay there, unable to do anything to help themselves. 


	9. Chapter 9: Down to Earth

Hermione's Letter Chapter 9  
  
Copyright © 2003 Steve Gilks. All rights reserved. Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter. I'm just having some fun in that wondrous universe she's created for us all.  
  
Please R&R everyone! There's plenty more story on the way!  
  
***  
  
Hermione ran as fast as she could towards the front of the Hufflepuff transport, although the transport's angle was making it extremely difficult for her to do so. Falling over various Hufflepuffs in the corridor she could finally see her destination. The huge transparent front of the transport was in visual range, and she could see the clouds through it, but she could also see that the incline was getting worse, and it wouldn't be long until the transport was pointing straight down.  
  
She pulled out her wand, chanting "Combustare verde!" A blue pulse emerged from the tip and smashed the glass entirely. The pressure difference started to suck everything out of the front of the transport and expel it into the air. But it didn't collide with the dragon pulling the Hufflepuff transport.  
  
The dragon was gone.  
  
Hermione had expected this. But she had a more immediate problem. She was being pulled out along with the debris. Grabbing a door frame which no longer possessed its door, having just lost it to the sky, she cast a Steadying Charm, which allowed her to walk safely without being sucked out.  
  
Approaching the exit carefully, she pulled herself out and onto the roof, which allowed her an unobstructed view of what was above. She saw a small purple rupture in the sky; circular and most definitely what she had been looking for.  
  
"Inverte invertala temporala!" she chanted as she swung her wand out towards the rupture. A yellow-orange beam hit the rapidly distancing purple swirl, causing a massive flash, and the rupture vanished softly and silently.  
  
But the transport was still falling.  
  
Hermione climbed back inside the transport, restored the front of the transport, and then found herself walking along it. The transport had now turned through 65 degrees and was facing more towards the ground, falling rapidly. People were falling down the corridors and landing hard on the magic energy field, and such a landing was far from free of pain. Although it could not compare to the pain caused by the feared Cruciatus curse, it was still shockingly powerful.  
  
Hermione tried her best to grab hold of something on the wall which was now above her, but she wasn't tall enough and couldn't reach it. She could do nothing from where she was to help the transport, so she decided to help the people who were with her, and hope with all her heart that someone else could do something. But the feeling of helplessness was awful.  
  
***  
  
Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout had managed to grab hold of a door handle and had managed to pull themselves into a room in the middle of the transport when the incline had begun. But they'd seen the missing dragon too; they'd caught a glimpse of the magic window.  
  
"Can we save the transport? Or should we evacuate, Minerva?" Professor Sprout asked urgently.  
  
Minerva McGonagall considered the options. There was no way they could get the transport to a safe height any more. They had no real choice but to abandon. But if the Muggles saw it.  
  
"Get as many students as you can to the back of the transport. I'm going to try and balance the transport once you've done that. We need to land at the correct angle; we're going to fall into the sea. It's a terrible risk, but it's the only way. As soon as we've splashed down, we'll get everyone out. We're not letting anyone get drowned." She opened the door again and they rushed out, Professor Sprout gathering people and blocking corridors to stop people falling further, and Professor McGonagall doing her best to reach the back of the transport, which was a difficult task in itself. Ron had already been placed in the hospital wing, which was located aft of almost every other room, and a couple of sixth years were doing their best to move him to the back without injuring him further.  
  
***  
  
Within five minutes the Hufflepuffs were assembled at the back of the transport, which was now leaning at a slightly more acceptable angle due to the mass shift. But Hannah Abbott was not there yet. Fred had taken a shine to a particularly attractive Hufflepuff sixth-year, and was trying to impress her with his latest plans for practical jokes; George, his twin, was talking to one of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team about how best to humiliate the Slytherins at the magical sport.  
  
Ginny and Sam stood with a girl of third-year-Hufflepuff origin, Susan Bones. They could see that this girl was getting more and more agitated as time went on.  
  
Ginny whispered to Sam as covertly as she could, "I hope we haven't done something to upset her."  
  
Sam shook her head. "She's worried about someone. Not us though. A friend, I imagine, or perhaps a lover."  
  
Ginny's eyes widened quite significantly at this. "I didn't know Susan had a boyfriend."  
  
The third year Hufflepuff, who was almost as striking a redhead as Ginny, called over to a boy named Justin Finch-Fletchley. He took over Susan's role as she pelted off round the corner and deeper into the transport.  
  
Sam nodded. "I'm sure now. She's gone to look for them."  
  
Ginny was still wide eyed as she looked to the younger girl. "How do you know all this, anyway?"  
  
Sam suddenly flushed red. There was no conviction in her voice. "Umm. well, I guess I just notice these things."  
  
Professor Sprout dashed into the area looking very flustered, her hair bobbing about randomly and her wand readied in her hand.  
  
"OK, have we got everyone?" she demanded in between breaths.  
  
Justin yelled back. "No Professor, Susan's just gone to look for Hannah. And Potter's not here either. Or that girl he likes so much, that Granger."  
  
Sam raised her eyes at Ginny. "Seems I was wrong about them. Although I was sure they were more than friends, I could just feel Susan's despair."  
  
Professor Sprout tutted. "We're going to hit the water in a minute, we need them here! Justin, come with me! Fred, Sarah, break it up and look after the girls! This is no time for romantic endeavours!"  
  
Fred and the girl jumped in shock. He'd managed, in an uncharacteristic moment of romantic success, managed to seduce the girl, Sarah, who he had been kissing merrily in a corner. They glanced at each other, both embarrassed to have been caught, using the Muggle expression, 'red-handed', and moved over to Ginny and Samantha. Ginny shot him a smirk, and he glared back at her.  
  
"Have to admit, I didn't see that one coming," Samantha commented with a grin.  
  
"Me neither," Ginny replied in a whisper. "He's usually such a klutz with women." She earned another glare from Fred, who had apparently overheard them, and presumably now was praying Sarah hadn't heard them too, although, as Ginny pointed out, "if she was kissing him that quickly I doubt overhearing us will make any difference."  
  
Professor McGonagall came around the corner at that point with Professor Sprout, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones, who between them were carrying Harry and Hannah, both of whom were now unconscious and also in need of medical attention. The two sixth-years assisting Ron also arrived from the other side at that point, sealing the corridor behind them with their wands. A group of Hufflepuff students split up to assist in supporting the students.  
  
"Do we have everyone now?" asked Sprout once more. "Let's see, Ron, Hannah, Susan, Potter. where's Hermione?"  
  
A murmuring surged through the crowd; no-one had seen her. Then someone called out.  
  
"There she is!"  
  
Hermione's big bushy hair was just visible at the end of the corridor. She was still having difficulty climbing the corridors, she was out of breath, and lacking in energy. McGonagall pulled out her wand, and shouted loudly enough that her voice would reach Hermione, "Accio Hermione!"  
  
The spell swept up the Gryffindor girl easily and brought her up to them, as Professor Sprout sealed the corridor. Waving her wand in the air, sparks shimmered across the ceiling to reveal three large hatches, round and as wooden as the walls. They had previously been ceiling, and there was no indication that they had been there before.  
  
Professor McGonagall moved to the centre of the corridor and stood ready to address the crowd.  
  
"When this transport hits the water below us you will immediately start exiting on to the roof via these hatches. Ladders," she said waving her wand, and three ladders extended from the hatches and rooted themselves into the floor, "are provided. Stay on top until everyone is out. We will then use rafts, conjured by myself, Professor Sprout, and the seventh- years, to sail to shore, which is about fifty metres away. Some of you will need to assist the injured. Is this all clear?"  
  
There was a general murmur of agreement with nodding of heads. Professor McGonagall nodded briskly.  
  
"Until then, brace yourselves. This will be quite an impact." She trailed her wand along the walls and the sealed corridors, creating strong, yellow and black ropes. "Hold on to these as tightly as you can."  
  
There was a rush of movement as everyone grabbed hold of a rope. Fred and Sarah grabbed onto each other as well as the rope; Ginny and Sam stood close and were doing the same. Hermione was gripped onto the rope in between some rather large Hufflepuffs and felt a little squished. She was deathly scared of what was about to happen; if it didn't go well, they'd all die here inside this old, irrelevant transport. And the events set in motion by Peter Pettigrew, no doubt ordered by you-know-who. no, Voldemort, she scolded herself for failing to use his name, would not be stopped. They had to survive. It was more important than the life of one Hogwarts house, one additional professor and a few Gryffindors.  
  
Professor McGonagall waved her wand around and around, making the walls glow as she did. The incline of the transport started to level off, and headed back towards an angle parallel to the sea below.  
  
***  
  
The impact was incredible. People were thrown clean off of the rope, smashing into walls and supporting pylons; amongst those who did hold on there were a good number of bumps and bruises. There were small breaches in the base of the transport caused by the impact, and water was starting it's penetration of the hull.  
  
"Move!" yelled McGonagall, and everyone scrambled to the nearest ladder. The hatches swung open as the Professor yelled, and students started climbing out at speeds previously thought impossible of humans. Fear was a good reason to get moving.  
  
It was probably a record time for evacuation, if you discounted the time added by the plenty of injured people lying on the floor now, being covered in water. Professor Sprout and McGonagall and some fifth- and sixth-years assisted in evacuating them as best they could, while the seventh-years were assigned the task of conjuring rafts and oars to bring the other students to shore.  
  
Most of the students were evacuated within ten more minutes, but the water was filling the insides and Harry and Ron had still not been hoisted out. Hermione was out of the transport and on top with Ginny and Sam, all three of them resisting attempts by seventh years to move them onto the rapidly growing raft fleet. The third-year had no intention of leaving Harry and Ron behind, and was trying to fight her way past the Hufflepuff seventh- years, albeit with little success. She snarled at them, and pushed as hard as she could, knocking some of them over in doing so, but she was worn down and eventually they managed to force her, Ginny and Sam onto a transport and to launch it. It joined the rest of the fleet and sailed away from the doomed carrier, moving towards the land so close to them. 


	10. Chapter 10: Let's Get Out Of Here!

Chapter 10  
  
With the evacuation still in progress on the now almost totally submerged ship, Hermione, Ginny and Sam waited on a small section of beach for the rest of the passengers to arrive, not least of which was Harry. Professors McGonagall and Sprout, with the help of some of the seventh years, were doing their best to pull those who had been injured either before or in the impact of the transport into the sparkling water out of the escape hatches but it was difficult, and they couldn't do it very quickly due to the massive influx of water. The transport itself, yellow and black on the outside, was now almost totally immersed in the sea, which was impeding the evacuation considerably.  
  
Hermione was too distant from the transport to be able to see too clearly what was happening on board, but occasionally a body was pulled out, and put on a raft with a seventh-year. A growing collection of injured people was assembling on the shoreline, where anyone with expertise in medical magic was helping as best they could.  
  
Fred and Sarah had found each other again and were holding on tightly to each other. Fred was consoling Sarah, who was sobbing into his hair; she was very upset as she had a sister who was still on board the transport.  
  
"She's only been at Hogwarts two days, she's not going to make it out. do something, please!" she wailed desperately into the Weasley twin's hair.  
  
Fred gently stroked the back of her head, doing his best to comfort her. "Sarah, they'll get her out. Trust me - I'm a Weasley." He gently kissed the top of her head, trying to soothe the distraught Hufflepuff, and her sobs gently softened. "Come on, let's sit down for a bit," he said, guiding her to an empty area of sand and helping her to the ground, putting his arm around her as they did.  
  
***  
  
Thirty seconds later Hermione observed another person being pulled out of the transport. She couldn't make out who exactly it was, but she could see that they were female. She was quite tall, too, compared with some of the people Hermione had previously seen. As the girl was sent over on a raft, Hermione could observe more closely who it was.  
  
"It's. Hannah," she said with a little squeal. "That means Harry's coming out!" Ginny and Sam shared in her delight, but Ginny's expression was amalgamated with one of extreme worry.  
  
Ron had not exited the transport yet either.  
  
Hermione noticed the look on Ginny's face, and turning to Sam, noticing the expression mirrored on Sam, subconsciously put her arms around the two of them, pulling them in close to her.  
  
"They'll be ok, they'll get them out," she whispered to the pair of them, just as she noticed that two more rafts had been launched. There was a thoroughly soaked young girl wearing the Hufflepuff robes on one, and a boy of Hermione's age with a red and gold tie on the other. His hair was black and very tousled.  
  
As they approached the shore, Hermione almost screamed with relief. She collided with Sarah as they both ran over to the rafts, having both seen who they were looking for, and they both fell to the floor heavily. Hermione got up first and gave Sarah a hand, and the two of them, both breathless from running, the fall, and relief, made it to the rafts, which had landed gracefully as they had picked themselves up.  
  
A Hufflepuff seventh-year was treating them using his wand. He was drawing water out of their chests via their mouths using a complex incantation that Hermione recognized from her copy of "Advanced Medicinal Magic, Volume 1." It seemed to be working, as everyone saved so far had awoken and been moved into a makeshift recovery area in a sheltered hollow underneath a cliff.  
  
Sarah and Hermione stood together, watching as the first-year girl and Harry were both regenerated, slowly but surely, from the damage caused by being submerged so long. After about a barrel's worth of water had been drained from the girl's body, she started to choke and splutter, and finally managed to come around. She gradually opened her eyes, the colour of which was a deep red, and regained awareness. Seeing her sister, she managed a weak smile, and raised her arms. Sarah pulled her up and hugged her in much the same style as Mrs Weasley tended to do to her children, almost squashing the somewhat tiny girl.  
  
"Don't ever do that to me again, Amelia! I thought you were gone!" She planted kisses all over her sister's pale face, which also had a tinge of blue to it from lack of the vital element oxygen.  
  
Harry caused a little more difficulty, it was necessary for three seventh years to extract the water from him, as there was so much of it. Harry had never been one for water; his taste for it did not extend beyond using it for potions or drinks. He had never learnt to swim as the Dursleys had not considered it to be a necessary skill for him - "we wouldn't want to waste valuable money on you learning to swim - it's not like you'll ever need it, your cupboard is the best place for you, and there you'll stay," Aunt Petunia had said to him with an evil grin on her bony face which looked as if it had been put through an old washing mangle.  
  
Harry's eyelids eventually parted and the green tinge of the visual organs within met the bright glare of the sunshine. For one brief moment, anyway.  
  
The green soon met with the brown of Hermione's wide eyes, and it was reflected in a single tear that had presented itself on her round face. Her bushy brown hair came out in front of her and hung down a little as he looked up at her, glad she was the first thing he was seeing.  
  
It seemed to Hermione that they were able to communicate so much in just one look; they shared a special bond that had come with their growing friendship. She didn't need to think about it, and she didn't understand it, but somehow it felt right, and she was quite content to bathe in it.  
  
She decided to address him.  
  
"Harry, I thought. well, I thought I'd lost you." Her voice trembled, mimicking the rest of her body, which was oscillating in a similar fashion.  
  
He opened his mouth slowly, and whispered his response.  
  
"Don't worry, Herm..io..ne. It'll take more. than water to stop. me." He choked and spluttered still but managed to get his words out and formed. She smiled as best she could muster, and pulled him up into her arms, slowly and with gentle tenderness, taking him into a long, soft and delicate hug, a few tears leaking from their ducts into his hair.  
  
***  
  
Fred, Ginny and Sam's glazes were still fixed on the now submerged transport, on which Professors McGonagall and Sprout and one seventh year were now pulling out one last figure. Again, they could see the figure's features vaguely. It was definitely male, and quite tall, but there was no way to tell at the distance they were at which student they were attempting to rescue. What could be determined, however, was that all three of them were having difficulty pulling the student out of the transport; he seemed to be stuck. The two professors were pulling the figure vertically up, while the seventh-year student seemed to be trying to free the body at the same time.  
  
For several minutes this went on, as the students watched from the shoreline. But it wasn't only students who were now watching. A good number of Muggles had arrived with binoculars to observe from the cliff tops; the emergency services were beginning to appear as well, and after finding that the cliffs had 'suddenly' become impassable, were preparing boats from a nearby shipyard.  
  
Suddenly the figure came loose. It was pulled away from the boat amid a loud scream from Professor McGonagall. The scream was clearly audible on the beach and by the Muggles, but no-one could as yet determine why she had let loose that short, violent exclamation.  
  
But when the figure returned to shore, it was obvious why.  
  
As the raft containing Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, the seventh- year Hufflepuff, and the last rescued student came back, people began to see why the figure had so quickly come loose.  
  
The lower half of the left leg of the student, whose uniform was black, gold and red and whose hair was as potent a red as the uniform, was missing. Professor Sprout was doing her best to seal the wound with her wand, but more and more blood was escaping; the Professor did not know sufficient medical spells to repair a wound of that calibre. Ginny, Sam and Fred ran down to the shore, quickly followed by Sarah and Hermione; the raft landed softly on the golden beach, and a group of seventh years rushed to help. As they conjured dressings onto the wound and cast blood stopping charms on the leg, Ginny stood next to them with Fred, tears silently pouring down her face; Fred held her tight in his arms with Sarah and Hermione doing the same.  
  
For it was Ron they had pulled from the wreck. 


	11. Chapter 11: The Voyage Continues

Hermione's Letter By Steve  
  
Copyright © 2003 Steve Gilks. All rights reserved.  
  
A/N: As always, I hope you enjoy it. Even if you don't, please hit the button at the bottom of the page and review my work!  
  
Chapter 11  
  
Within ten minutes the huge triage team had successfully gotten the bleeding under control and had sealed the wound to prevent further damage and infection. But it did not and could not change the reality of the situation. Ron had lost effective mobility, and although he could be fitted with a prosthetic leg, he would never regain full motional ability. Furthermore, it could make it more difficult, or even impossible, for him to play Quidditch as the weight of the prosthesis might cause an imbalance that might pull him off his broom at the velocities necessary for the high- speed and dangerous broom sport. However, as McGonagall pointed out, right now the priority was for everyone to safely reach the stronghold, in order that everyone would be safe. Additionally the students still needed their education, Hogwarts or no Hogwarts, and their destination was an ideal one for this purpose.  
  
But first there were Muggles to deal with. The use of magic by the students in this situation would almost certainly be in violation of the laws regarding underage magic outside of Hogwarts, laid down by the Ministry of Magic many years ago. The area however was swarming with Muggles and Professor McGonagall was at a loss as to how to deal with them. They were finding ways to reach the beach now, via paths the students hadn't noticed and therefore hadn't been able to block with magic. There was a swarm of what looked to Hermione like Muggle police officers, albeit with different uniforms to the ones she was used to seeing.  
  
Three of these officers managed to reach the beach and made their way over to Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout.  
  
"Êtes-vous la professeur avec responsabilité pour ces jeunes?" he asked McGonagall who had stood forward with Sprout and a couple of seventh years to deal with the Muggle incursion on to the beach.  
  
McGonagall looked rather blankly at him. She had never learnt the French language in her time, and as a result had no idea as to what he had just said, except that 'responsibility' had something to do with it. Having no way to answer she was not sure what to do.  
  
A blonde haired and rather blue faced Hannah Abbott ran over at that moment, having heard the policeman speak. She looked up to the policeman.  
  
"Elle est notre prof, oui. Pouvons-nous vous aider?"  
  
McGonagall looked at Hannah with a somewhat perplexed look; she had had no idea that Hannah knew such good French, and made sure to award Hufflepuff house some extra points later.  
  
"Vous parlez français? Peut-être vous pouvez agir comme traductrice pour le moment. Vous la ferrez?"  
  
Hannah nodded. "Oui, monsieur. Dit-moi ce que vous aimeriez dire à Professeur McGonagall et je le traduirai."  
  
McGonagall recovered her voice. "Hannah, what were you saying to him?" she asked rather briskly.  
  
Hannah turned back to the Professor. "Basically, I explained that you were our teacher, and that I would act as a translator for the moment."  
  
The Professor briefly considered it, followed with a nod of her head to show her agreement.  
  
"Explain to him that we were. sailing across the Channel and our ship unfortunately suffered a hull breach and sank."  
  
Hannah raised her own eyebrow too; she doubted that the policeman would have any faith in what she was about to say, but since she couldn't come up with anything better, she proceeded.  
  
"Nous traversions le Channel et notre bateau a souffrit un brèche, qui l'a causé à descendre dans l'océan."  
  
Hannah didn't know the verb necessary for 'to sink', so she improvised her answer.  
  
The policeman apparently understood, as he nodded. "Nous l'avons déterminé mais pour quoi a-t-il une blessure tan grave comme ça?" He indicated to Ron with a nod in the boy's direction.  
  
Hannah turned to McGonagall. "He says 'we know that, but why does that boy have an injury as bad as that?'"  
  
McGonagall looked at the man with pure disgust. Asking such a question, she thought.  
  
"Tell him he lost his leg when he was trying to escape. He got stuck in the escape hatch."  
  
Hannah swallowed heavily at the thought of that, and after a moment to get her composure, she translated.  
  
"Il a perdu son jambe en train d'essayer à sortir du bateau." she said, but not knowing the words for the remainder of the sentence, she finished it there.  
  
The policeman's expression showed some doubt in the veracity of what he had been told, but he nevertheless moved on.  
  
"Il y aura des ambulances pour que nous puissions transporter ce qu'ils ont de blessures aux hôpitaux. Nous contrôlerons les, err, spectateurs." He nodded and walked off, gesturing to his two burly companions to follow him. Professor McGonagall couldn't help thinking of Malfoy and his two cronies Crabbe and Goyle when she observed that. Although they were only offering assistance to the injured party, she found about herself a great sense of relief to see them walking back to the hidden mountain path.  
  
She now also had a hard decision to make. She had two options, both of them very difficult to execute, and both with possibly disastrous consequences if they failed to proceed in the manner she planned.  
  
In order to aid her decision making process, she gestured to Hermione to come and join her; the third-year Gryffindor girl was by now sitting on the beach with Sarah, Fred and Sam as they consoled Ginny; she had become somewhat calmer once the Hufflepuff medics had successfully managed to stop the bleeding caused by Ron's injury, and once reassured that Ron was not going to die because of the accident. She had also found something of a kindred spirit in Sarah, and they had been able to share experiences and talk about how they had felt. They had also been able to offer each other some encouragement, as both Amelia, Sarah's sister, and Ron had survived the accident. Ginny made a mental note to let Fred know, later on, when this was all over, that he'd made a good choice of girlfriend, and that he mustn't let her go. She would make a wonderful addition to the Weasley family; and apart from the vibrant red hair, she shared all the characteristics possessed by a good Weasley. Ginny would be proud to be a sister of this fine girl, who so obviously shined with all of the qualities attributed to those students sorted into the house of Hufflepuff.  
  
Hermione excused herself and walked over to Professor McGonagall, who was accompanied by Professor Sprout.  
  
"Yes, Professor?" she asked with whatever grace and formality she could muster. "You wanted to see me?"  
  
Professor McGonagall looked sternly down at Hermione. She had a great seriousness about her expression and glance. "Hermione, you are a Muggleborn. You must know something of them. How advanced is their medicine? They're not still using leeches, are they?"  
  
Hermione smiled a little, amused at the thought of leeches in modern medicine. "No, Professor, it's more advanced than that. They can now correct many problems from a splinter to a malfunctioning heart." Her heart skipped a beat as she realised what the Professor was planning. "But, Professor, you're not going to."  
  
McGonagall interrupted. "I don't think we're going to have much choice. Ron needs help, Muggle or magical, and a lot of the others are suffering seriously too. We won't make it to Beauxbatons without help."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened. "We're going to Beauxbatons? The French school?" She was intrigued by this turn of events.  
  
McGonagall looked a bit shocked for a moment; she'd let slip their destination a little bit ahead of time, but let it pass. "Yes. Their Headmistress, Madame Maxime, has agreed to take our school's pupils on for the time being. Until we discover what has been going on back at the school. And on the transport. I'm no expert but I don't think the creature pulling us was supposed to disappear like that."  
  
Realising she was divulging more and more information that she needed to, she moved on briskly. "Anyway, do you think the Muggles can help us? Because if not we need to leave, immediately." Her voice was highlighted with a tone of urgency.  
  
The present shape of Hermione's mouth showed her doubts, along with the frown on her forehead. She had heard of some people being completely botched by Muggles, the wrong medicines having been used on them, or the incorrect operation performed; she also wasn't entirely certain how the body chemistry of pure-bloods differed from that of Muggle-borns. The medicines used by the healers of the Muggle world might be totally incompatible with us. then again, I've had Muggle medicine many a time, and I'm still here, aren't I? But I'm not a pure-blood. Ron is - it might affect him differently to me. Oh, what do I suggest? Maybe I should just tell the truth.  
  
"Professor, I cannot say what effects Muggle medicines may have on pure- blooded wizards. But I do know this, without help of some sort; Ron doesn't have much chance with a wound that big. I think we'd be best to let the Muggles help us." Her face still wore a frown as big as a castle, with the uncertainty flashing in her eyes, as well as the smallest glimmer of a tear.  
  
McGonagall regarded the star student for a few moments, the uncertainty reflected in the older woman's face too. She, having worked in magic all her life, knew of the dangers of involving the Muggles with these magical people; the International Statute of Secrecy would seem to apply. Although the Professor had faced many challenges in her past and had dealt with her fair share of dilemmas, it had not been her misfortune to face this magnitude of a problem before.  
  
Suddenly, her time was up.  
  
A plethora of emergency vehicles had arrived at the peaks of the cliffs. Within seconds, people started to emerge and follow the paths down onto the beach, seemingly able to find their way down the dangerous rock face.  
  
McGonagall knew she had to make the decision now. She shot them a glance, looked away, and then, noticing something, she looked round at them again with one eyebrow raised.  
  
She suddenly started marching towards them, followed swiftly by Professor Sprout, who had apparently also spotted something.  
  
A man was leading the group, with a girl with rivalling height next to him, who possessed long blonde hair and a somewhat pale face. Behind them was a group of similarly-aged teenagers, looking confident and strong.  
  
The gap between the two groups closed, and as it did, they finally entered voice range. The girl stepped forward as the two groups stopped.  
  
"My name is Fleur Delacour. I am a student of ze Academie de Beauxbatons. Professeur Dumbledore sent a message to us to let us know of your, err, crashing into ze sea. We 'ave brought. 'ow do you say it. Muggle ambulances to take you back to ze Academie." She gave the two Professors a wide smile, and indicated the ambulances and the waiting assistants. "Ze others cannot speak in your language, zo if you 'ave any questions, ask me. We should go before ze real.. euh.. ambulances. arrive."  
  
Professor McGonagall gave the order to her Hufflepuff counterpart to get everyone moving; and instructed the French girl to inform her French colleagues to help move the injured. A rush of activity ensued; the uninjured Hufflepuffs ran to the ambulances and squashed in, many more than normal to a vehicle; the injured were carried up the cliff on stretchers, and, four to an ambulance, were evacuated. It took twenty-three vehicles to accommodate everyone, and almost twenty minutes to complete the task, but eventually, everyone had boarded somewhere or other. Although it was massively uncomfortable, and people were literally pressed into each other, it was a more acceptable option than submitting to Muggle care.  
  
The twenty three ambulances rushed off through the town nearby, sirens blaring and lights flashing, forcing cars and cyclists to dodge as they carried their precious cargo to its destination in the French hills. The completion of the passage through the town was a very important segment of the journey; twelve ambulances did not go unnoticed by anyone, and additionally, the real ambulances would discover in minutes that the injured had all disappeared.  
  
The fleet made its way through the town with great vitesse and without drawing too much attention; however, proceeding past a third set of traffic lights, a large group of ambulances flew past in the opposite direction. Professor McGonagall, aboard the leading transport, sported a rather worried look on her face, and instructed the drivers to go faster; she knew they had very little time left now.  
  
The ambulances reached a velocity of 60mph through the town, and on exiting the town and joining a massive multilane road, accelerated to 90mph, the sirens still blaring. They passed exit after exit at massive speed, the drivers only just retaining control of their vehicles, and headed northeast towards Beauxbatons, situated in a valley in northern France.  
  
They approached an interchange point, and the fleet veered to the right, towards another large road, which was somewhat deserted, rather unexpectedly. But the situation was soon to change as the ambulances were joined by a large number of police cars. One, two, three, then ten more. these cars also had their sirens activated and were going much faster than the ambulances were. A window opened on one of them, which was holding its position parallel to the lead ambulance, and a man spoke through a megaphone, "Arretez vos vehicules et les exitez avec vos mains dans l'aire! Vous avez une minute pour le faire."  
  
The blonde French girl, who was also in the first vehicle, translated for the benefit of her English companions.  
  
"They are ordering us to stop and come out of ze ambulances with our hands in ze air," she said, looking at McGonagall with some concern.  
  
"Well, obviously we can't do that," barked McGonagall, "but what else can we do? We have to reach the school." Her face indicated her current state of deep thought.  
  
She was facing another tricky situation; they seemed to be coming in droves lately. There was no obvious solution, again, and she was risking exposure to the Muggles, and at the moment everyone looked extremely guilty. It would seem like child abduction, and they'd be lucky not to all be thrown in jail.  
  
Fleur suddenly spoke up.  
  
"I 'ave an idea."  
  
She opened the hatch in the back of the cockpit and passed into the passenger section, squeezing through the crowds of people aboard, aiming for the position underneath the ceiling hatch. She succeeded, and released the catches on it, pushing it just slightly up, so that the change was barely noticeable, and, pulling out her wand, she placed the tip of it just through the gap. There was silence around her as she whispered, "Deflata circulares!"  
  
A small spark spat out of the tip of her wand, and vanished just as quickly, at the same time as the man in the police car called out 'Trente secondes!'  
  
Fleur pulled her wand back in and closed the hatch once more, and returned to the cockpit, to see in the rear view mirror that all the tyres on the cars seemed to have breached; air was escaping them and the cars were falling behind. Within minutes the ambulances were out on their own again.  
  
"I suggest zat we use ze Invisibility Boosters; zen we can escape unseen," Fleur suggested to McGonagall.  
  
Professor McGonagall pressed a button in the centre of the cockpit, and their ambulance disappeared as if it and all its occupants had become colourless. The other vehicles followed suit, and activated their invisibility systems too.  
  
The afternoon passed; the vehicles had continued on their journey, having left the road and flown into the air to evade the traffic they eventually encountered; although still under cloak, the Invisibility Boosters did not make it possible for other vehicles to pass through the ambulances, and any collisions would be difficult to explain.  
  
It was early evening now and a lot of the people aboard had fallen asleep, many people doing the best to curl up in the small spaces available in the ambulances. Hermione, Ginny and Sam had fallen asleep in each other's arms aboard the second transport; Harry and Ron were just barely awake in the last ambulance. Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones had also snuggled up to each other in Hermione's vehicle. Finally, Sarah and Fred were lying together in the fourth ambulance.  
  
Hermione's dreams again had been invaded by the mysterious figure; she'd all but forgotten him in the events of the morning. She continued to approach him, and was able to get closer this time. The figure was becoming less of a blur, and she could see that he was not as tall as she had first thought. She thought she could see a reflection of the figure's face in the icy floor, but had not been able to match it to a name yet; the features were indistinct. It was as if she was wearing someone else's glasses; the view she had of this person was indeterminate, and she again was not able to clarify her view.  
  
Hermione grabbed a nearby Mach 3 jet and flew it towards the figure, and zoomed at massive velocity ahead. But this mysterious person pulled out a Nimbus 2001 and zoomed away too. Although the Mach 3 jet was somewhat faster than a Nimbus 2001, for some reason Hermione couldn't catch up with the figure. Within minutes, it Disapparated.  
  
But the dream didn't end there. Hermione was still flying the jet. She flew it on and on, over mountains, through valleys and over seas. Eventually she flew it up into space, round the Moon, and then back towards Earth. It entered the atmosphere, and passed safely down into the clouds. But the engine suddenly stopped. The plane hung inside a particularly large cloud.  
  
The face of Lord Voldemort suddenly appeared in front of the cockpit, with an arm pointing a wand at the girl.  
  
"Hermione," his voice boomed, "let me kill you!" 


	12. Chapter 12: Here We Come!

**Hermione's Letter  
Chapter 12  
  
**

**Copyright © 2003 Steven Gilks. All rights reserved. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and all related articles copyright © JK Rowling. No copyright or trademark   
infringement is intended and no money is being made.  
  
**

A/N: This chapter is released to mark my 18th birthday (19th August 2003). Everyone enjoy!  
  


***  
  


Hermione awoke with a scream, her hands quivering, her face white as the clouds and with sweat dripping off of her face. She was terrified through and through at the sudden appearance of the Dark Lord in her otherwise simply strange dreams.  
  


And the dreams were still not being any more forthcoming. She could not figure out who the mysterious person was, nor did she really even suspect anyone. And she was still none the wiser as to the identity of the entity provoking these dreams in the first place.  
  


She rubbed her eyes, awakening herself, and noticed Samantha was awake as well, probably aroused from her slumber by Hermione's piercing scream. A few of the others on board looked to be stirring, but they simply shifted position and dropped off to sleep again, except for Susan Bones, who was shifting in and out of sleep.  
  


Sam rubbed her eyes in a similar fashion to Hermione, and noticed she was awake too, so she sat up and whispered to her.  
  


"Hermione… was that you? What's wrong?" There was a mélange of fatigue and concern in her tone.  
  


Hermione considered telling the girl but decided she'd be better not knowing. "Oh, nothing Sam, just a bad dream, that's all." She tried to show conviction in her voice, but it was futile, as Sam was an intelligent girl, and simply ignored that statement, knowing it to be false.  
  


"Hermione, it's me you're talking to. I know we've only known each other a few days, but I know that you're not telling me the whole truth." She got sterner as she finished the line.  
  


Hermione sighed. "I don't know how you can say that, Samantha. You don't know me, no matter how much you think you do. Now go back to sleep."  
  


Sam looked rather hurt, but she lay down again and tried to find a comfortable position. Hermione stopped her mid action; she put a hand on her shoulder.  
  


"I'm sorry, Sam," she said. "I didn't mean to be harsh with you. I just didn't want to scare you, that's all. If you want to know, I'll tell you."  
  


Sam looked at Hermione for a moment, then flashed her a sweet little smile. "It's ok, Hermione, I forgive you. But I should tell you that I can deal with scary things. I'm not sure I should really tell you, I risk losing you as a friend, but if you want to hear, I will explain."  
  


Hermione looked at her with concern. "Alright, Sam, I'd like to know." She rearranged her bushy hair in order that it was more comfortable, and then fixed her gaze on Sam's eyes, which were still somewhat enlarged from the sudden awakening.  
  


"Well, my surname is Tensenson. That is my father's surname. But my mother's surname was somewhat less… approved of. My mother's surname is… well it's… you know…"  
  


"What?" Hermione asked with a little impatience.  
  


"Well… _Riddle," she said hesitantly.  
  
_

Hermione sat somewhat dumbstruck at this revelation. Samantha Tensenson, this sweet little girl, was a relation of Lord Voldemort? What was she doing in Gryffindor then? Why hadn't she been locked away?  
  


She simply stared at the girl, somewhat unsure of herself and of her words. She didn't know what to say.  
  


Sam's eyes welled up with tears. "I knew you'd think of me like this after I told you. How you didn't already know is a mystery to me."  
  


Hermione now had to move to respond. She pulled Sam closer to her, wrapping her arm around her, and giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head. "Hey now Sam, you're not going to lose me or Harry, Ron or Ginny over this. You may be related to… _him_, but that doesn't mean you _are_ him. She stroked the younger girl's head gently. "This must have been a terrible burden for you to have carried. You're a brave girl to tell me this."  
  


Sam pressed into Hermione's hug, leaning on the body of the older girl for comfort, and for warmth. "Thank you, Hermione," she said weakly. "You're really sweet, you've been so nice to me. Thank you so much," she murmured, before settling herself down again, her arms around the older girl, and falling asleep almost instantly again. She was very tired, and it showed in the rapidity of her return to regeneration.  
  


Hermione however couldn't fall asleep now. Until today her dreams had been vaguely strange; just her chasing a figure she couldn't identify. But today's dream had, of course, been much more disturbing. The appearance of Lord Voldemort, however shocking, had not really been a surprise to Hermione. It seemed that everything evil or strange in the world was due to him. However, there was no proven link between Hermione's dreams and the real-world events going on around her.  
  


She thought about what she knew about the scenario. She knew that Peter Pettigrew was responsible, although this confused her as he was known to be a hero, who died giving his life for Muggles, she knew that she could use the magic provided with the letter to prevent these events; and she knew that the information was on good authority, as it came from Hermione's future self.  
  


But that letter had mentioned nothing about the dreams Hermione was now experiencing, nor could she see any valid connection. Hermione, however, knew that the odds of the same dream repeating over and over again were extremely slim, and that the dreams were probably more than they seemed to be. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't come up with an explanation for them; yet there must be. It was a paradox of logic that Hermione wouldn't have wished upon a race of people whose entire existence lay around logic.  
  


She continued to think over the topic as the ambulances continued their journey through the skies of France.  
  


***  
  


The flotilla of flying ambulances had continued its journey during the girls' time sleeping at greater speed than when they had graced the roads, and was now within a few miles of the castle of L'academie Beauxbatons. It was clearly visible ahead, and a lot of people had conjured windows in the sides of the ambulances to get better views. The structure was magnificent; it glowed blue in the mist that always surrounded it, and had many tall towers, just as Hogwarts did. Those who had the fortune of being in the first ambulance could also see a massive crystalline structure in the middle of the grounds, which shone awe inspiringly in the bright sunlight. They were also able to see the two giant transports of Gryffindor and Slytherin, which had landed just outside the castle.  
  


Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly boomed out through all the ambulances. "All students: your attention please. We are now approaching Beauxbatons, the French school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please prepare for landing. You will be taken to your dormitories directly after we have disembarked from the ambulances."  
  


There was scrambling throughout the fleet as people awoke and found more comfortable seated positions to take up. Sam, Ginny, and Hermione sat next to each other on a bench affixed to the wall in their transport; Ron and Harry were held steady by various Hufflepuffs in theirs. Sarah, Fred and Amelia simply held on tightly to each other.  
  


McGonagall's voice again boomed out. "When you leave the transports, wait for instructions from myself and Miss Delacour, who will be assisting me."  
  


As they started their descent from the clouds, the Invisibility Boosters were switched off, and twenty three ambulances approached the school, the low sun of the late afternoon reflecting off of them and creating a wonderful sight.  
  


They covered the final few hundred metres and approached the landing zone, as a large woman who was at least as big as Hagrid and a few other adults, accompanied by a small group of students of about Fleur's age, came outside the school via the main entrance. They were wearing delicately thin robes made of blue silk, and most had their hair arranged in pretty ways. There was a pair of twins there; they were wearing identical blue ribbons in their hair, as well as the same expression on their faces.  
  


The ambulances assumed a line abreast formation and landed, one by one, the lead transport, on the far left, landing first, the others soon after. The descent was very graceful, and there was some applause on their landing from the waiting crowd. Professor Dumbledore soon came out to join the group, and as Professor McGonagall descended from the cabin of the first transport, he and the large woman went over to meet her and Fleur, who had disembarked just after.  
  


She whispered to McGonagall. "Zat is Madame Maxime, our headmistress." The Professor nodded to Fleur and continued without speaking a response.  
  


The two parties met and Madame Maxime addressed Professor McGonagall first. "Bonsoir Professeur McGonagall. Welcome to our school." She turned to Fleur, who was stood in line with McGonagall, looking with awe at Dumbledore. "Fleur, organisez les étudiants de Hogwarts, s'il vous plait. Nous avons besoin de les introduire au lycée avant de manger."  
  


Both McGonagall and Dumbledore looked at Madame Maxime somewhat blankly, but when they saw Fleur organizing the students into groups, they understood. Nevertheless, Madame Maxime explained.  
  


"I simply asked Fleur to arrange ze students in order that we may introduce them to our fine school," she said with a bright smile on her face.  
  


Fleur then walked back up to the teaching party.  
  


"I 'ave organized ze students into groups. Ze injured students are being taken to ze medical area," she announced proudly, pointing to the groups, and then to the stretchers being carried away. "'Ave the sleeping quarters been arranged?" she then asked.  
  


"Oui, Fleur, we 'ave arranged zem. Ze third years and above will share quarters with the Beauxbatons students; the first an' second years will 'ave ze spare rooms underneath ze castle. If you could 'ave zem taken to the right places, s'il vous plait?" Madame Maxime responded.  
  


"Oui, Madame," the blonde French girl responded and walked back off towards the groups.  
  


She started to move the students into the school with the help of the other students, especially the twin girls, who she seemed to be friendly with, and Professor Sprout, who once finished came to join the teachers.  
  


The teachers walked into the school too after all the students had entered, proceeding to the Teachers' Lounge in one of the towers.  
  


***  
  
****

Fleur Delacour led a group of third years from the Hufflepuff contingent into the frontmost tower of the castle, along with Hermione, who was being oddly silent. She didn't know anyone in Hufflepuff really except for Hannah Abbott, who of course had been injured in the initial stages of the Hufflepuff transport's fall. But Susan Bones, Hannah's best friend, addressed her.  
  


"Hey, Hermione," she said, the tiredness showing clearly through her voice.  
  


"Hiya… ummm… Susan is it?"  
  


"Yeah," she replied. "How are you?"  
  


Hermione looked at her. "I'm ok. Bit tired, though. You?"  
  


"Well, I'm ok. I just wish Hannah was. She's important to me and I don't want her to be injured." She was clearly suffering at Hannah's injury, even though it was probably just concussion. Her face looked rather evacuated of life; there was no colour to it this evening.  
  


"And… umm… if you need any advice, with… images during your sleep, well, let's just say, being in a similar situation, I can help you," she added.  
  


Hermione's eyes shot up. "And just what is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.  
  


"When you screamed, you know, on the transport. I saw you sat there after Sam went back to sleep. You were clearly considering something, and judging by the fact that you'd awoken from a nightmare, I thought it might be the same thing I've been experiencing. I've been having odd dreams lately." She looked at Hermione in total sincerity, and Hermione knew that Susan was being genuine, not just trying to make fun of her, as the likes of Draco Malfoy would have done. Suddenly, she was very glad she was having this conversation. She now had someone she could confide this to. She decided to take advantage of the opportunity she was being presented with; she wanted to get this out in the open with someone she knew would understand.  
  


"I'm… umm… I'm not sure what to think. I would… appreciate… any guidance you could offer me."  
  


Susan nodded. "Alright. But not here. We'll discuss it in the morning. We need to find somewhere private to chat about this. I'll ask Fleur if she knows anywhere people can go and talk and be alone, alright?"  
  


Hermione accepted it with a tilt of her head, and received an identical gesture from the fiery-haired Hufflepuff.  
  


The group eventually entered the common room inside the tower, and Fleur instructed the group to divide up; each girl needed to pair up with a Beauxbatons girl, and the same for the boys. Hermione bid Susan farewell for now, and went over to a girl with hair similar to her own, and addressed.  
  


"Hello. What's your name?" she asked with trepidation.  
  


The girl smiled at her. "My name is Mia. What's yours?"  
  


Hermione responded with her best French accent. "Je m'appelle Hermione."  
  


Mia smiled a bit more. "Ah! Vous parlez Français?"

  
As Hermione could speak French, but only a little, she answered, "Seulement un peu, mais oui. Can I share dorms with you?"  
  


She nodded her approval. "Oui, I would very much like zat," she proclaimed.  
  


It didn't take long for everyone to find partners, although due to the high injury count in Hermione's year group, there were some people left over after everyone had paired up.  
  


Fleur made an announcement.  
  


"For ze benefit of those who 'ave just arrived 'ere, you should know zat your… things 'ave been placed in ze storage room at ze back of zis room. For ze Hufflepuffs, you should know zat we have Apparated your things from ze transport into the room, and cleaned zem up. Please move them into the room of the person you are sharing with, and zen we will go to ze Dining Room to eat."  
  


People moved from all around the room with their partners to grab their things. Hermione and Mia picked up the articles of the former and carried them up the left set of stairs to a room on the third floor. Mia unlocked it with her wand, which shimmered with the same blue that surrounded the castle and its grounds, and entered the room, followed by Hermione, who was truly amazed. It was nothing like her dormitory at Hogwarts; the whole room was bathed in a purple aura and had a view overlooking the Beauxbatons Quidditch pitch. There were two beds, both made with purple bedclothes, and there were several posters depicting a French Quidditch team, the 'Trouveurs de la Snitch', obviously the team that Mia supported. There was also a bedside table between the two beds and a lamp positioned on top of that, with spell books in a bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. A small table held a couple of boxes of Every Flavour Beans and also a bottle of some kind of beverage.  
  


"Your bed is ze bed by ze window," Mia informed Hermione, as she pulled Hermione's heavy trunk into the room and placed it at the end of the bed which had the magnificent view right next to it. "It 'as a nice view, I think. Do you like Quidditch?"  
  


"Yes, I do like it," she answered, "but I don't play. I just like to watch. My friend Harry Potter is the Seeker on our house team."  
  


Mia's eyes widened. "_You_ are friends with ze great Harry Potter? 'Ee is _'ere?"  
  
_

Hermione nodded with a smile. "He's a mean Quidditch player."  
  


Mia looked disheartened by that last statement. "You mean 'ee is not nice?"  
  


"No, no," Hermione rushed to correct Mia, "I mean he is a _good Quidditch player."  
  
_

"_Ahhh_," she said, relief filling her veins. "I understand now. Well, we should go down to ze Dining Hall for some cuisine française. But first you would probably like to change, no?"  
  


Hermione had totally forgotten that her clothing was still a total mess from the sea and the beach encounters. She did need to change.  
  


"Umm, yes, I do," she said.  
  


"I will give you some space, zen. By ze way, we can wear whatever we want for meals, so it is your choice, you do not 'ave to wear your uniform," she said. "I will be outside if you need me." She walked back out of the open door and pulled it behind her so it was firmly shut, sending a smile to Hermione before their faces were separated by the timber.  
  


Hermione sat down on the bed, and the glow surrounded her, filling her with warmth and strength in her heart; she had never seen nor even heard of this effect before, but it was a welcome one, and she didn't try to resist it. She considered what to put on for the meal, and decided on a purple top and a pair of jeans, with a necklace containing a purple stone around her neck, and she applied some basic makeup to 'make herself beautiful', although she certainly didn't feel it inside. She was full of conflicting emotions; romantic, sad, concerned, and plain miserable states were all present in the torrent of raging emotions, images and thoughts in the young girl's mind.  
  


She'd be happier once she'd had her little chat with Susan in the morning. If she could sort out those thoughts, she would have a little bit more of an easier time of life. Every stress she could eliminate, she would. She'd go and see Harry and Ron, comfort them if possible, as well as Amelia, who was still injured. She'd do her school work and hang out with her new friend Mia. She'd find out who or what was causing her dreams and make them pay. Hell, right now she felt she could even strangle Lord Voldemort with her bare hands. Anything to relieve some stress. After all, she thought, _he was the ultimate cause of all the pain.  
  
****_

For now, however, she sprayed on some perfume and exited her new home, walking with Mia back down the stone staircase to the Common Room.


	13. Chapter 13: A Fight for Survival

**Hermione's Letter  
by Steve  
  
Copyright © 2003 Steve Gilks.**** All rights reserved.  
  
Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and all related concepts and environments © J.K. Rowling. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.  
  
Chapter 13 is dedicated to my new beta reader, without whom Hermione's Letter would never have continued. Please read and review her fics: her FFN username is loopily.  
  
**Chapter 13  
  
**In the Infirmary at Beauxbatons, enchanted to give out a purple glow that calmed the patients inside, an emergency operation was in progress on the largest bed, which was situated at the very end of the chamber. Several witches and wizards were using various organic patches, all of which looked very sickly, in addition to their wands in order to try and heal the injuries suffered by the patient. The other patients in the ward were also fitted with these almost-creatures to allow their wounds to heal, but the current patient looked to be losing the fight.  
            The witch in charge shook her head as she continued her treatment, eventually calling out in French for someone to fetch Professor Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, and the Hogwarts nurse, Madam Pomfrey, in order that they could help. She continued to shake her head, and ordered that another creature was brought in. It took a good five minutes before that creature arrived, and when it did it was quite amazing; it was a beautiful bird, although most definitely not a phoenix, as one might have first thought it to be. It was much smaller than a phoenix, and possessed a vibrant red pigmentation rather than the gold usually found on the former bird.**

            The bird flew up onto the patient's chest, and spread its wings; a substance finer than salt, but redder than the hottest chilli began to fall onto the skin of the boy lying there. The epidermis immediately absorbed the particles, and the patient's body began to exhibit the same red hue as the bird. First his head shone red, then the colouring began to penetrate the rest of his body, spreading down his chest as the expansion followed in his arms, then passing down through his pelvis and covering the left leg, followed by the right, although in the right, the penetration stopped at about halfway down, leaving the area where the bottom of his leg should be with no colouring.

Indeed, there was no further leg to invade with colour. The entire bottom half of the right leg was missing entirely, lost when the patient was forcibly removed from the sinking Hufflepuff transport back on the shores of France. But the loss of the leg wasn't really the problem, but rather the loss of blood that it had caused. The patient's body was weakening every minute, and although it had survived for seven hours now with the aid of various charms and bandages, the measures would not be effective indefinitely. Nothing the French doctor had been able to do was preventing further damage. All she had been able to do was prevent the pain by keeping the patient unconscious. She was oblivious to the reason why her regular treatments were ineffective in the case of the current patient, and prayed her associates, who would be arriving imminently, would be able to mastermind a plan to save this young, helpless wizard.  
            Very soon, the three people graced the Infirmary with their presence, and the French doctor explained to Madame Maxime that she had no real hope of saving the patient without assistance. She was unable to stop the blood escaping the patient's body with all her treatments, most of which were proven many times over, and she had even tried some unconventional ideas, to no avail. Something was most definitely different this time, but she had no idea what the elusive factor was.  
            Madam Pomfrey worked extremely diligently and without rest, examining the subject until her neck ached from craning over him, as she looked for the solution to the life-threatening problem that the patient faced. She tried numerous spells and combinations of potions; different uses of the creatures, and even the application of poisons known to sometimes have regenerative effects. But her efforts were futile, and she, too, conceded defeat.  
            It was left to the all-knowing Professor Dumbledore now; he was the only one left who had any chance of saving the patient.

            He examined him briefly, and then addressed Madam Pomfrey.  
            "Poppy, please fetch Hermione Granger. She will be able to help."  
            Madam Pomfrey was confused as to why this would assist, but despite her bewilderment she followed the Professor's directive.  
            Dumbledore then turned to Madame Maxime and the French doctor, telling them he would return momentarily, and Disapparated from the room.  
  


***  
            It did not take long for Madam Pomfrey to reach the tower in which Hermione Granger was currently located; however, she knew it would take her considerably longer to pull Hermione away from the tower, judging by her current situation.  
            Hermione and Mia had gone to look after the distraught Parvati Patil. She hadn't stopped crying since the previous night, except when she had fallen asleep on board the Gryffindor transport. Since then, Lavender Brown, her best friend, and Alicia Spinnet, one of the three Gryffindor chasers had done their best to look after the girl. She would need more than a shoulder to cry on, however, noted Pomfrey, and she would have to have a chat with Professor McGonagall later on.  
            However, the immediate problem was saving another life.   
Poppy Pomfrey took a deep breath before marching over towards the group. She did not want to elevate the pain of the young Gryffindor any more, so she did her best to be careful and not to seem too imposing as she approached.  
She had planned to use a simple 'Ahem' when she reached them, but they had already spotted her before she finished her voyage. They all looked up at the lady who took care of all of their medical problems with confused looks adorning the variety of different faces there.

"Ummm… Hermione," she began, "Professor Dumbledore requires your assistance in the medical wing. I'm afraid that neither the French doctor or I have been able to heal the young Mr. Weasley, and the Headmaster would like your presence, presumably to assist with his treatment. Therefore, you must come with me. Additionally," she added, "I would like you four girls to accompany me to see Professor McGonagall." She indicated to the quartet sat next to Hermione.

Parvati wiped away a few tears, using a charm to make her face look better, and stood up, along with the quartet of girls who were so lovingly looking after her, following Madam Pomfrey as they left the room, with many curious Beauxbatons and Hogwarts students following them also, but only with their eyes.  
  
***  
  
            Hermione Granger and Madam Poppy Pomfrey entered the Infirmary with the other girls remaining outside in the passage. Hermione felt her body quivering again as she approached Professor Dumbledore, wondering how she could help Ron, whilst at the same time knowing the answer before he'd even asked her the inevitable question.  
  


Professor Dumbledore turned to face Hermione as she stepped closer to him. He opened his mouth slowly, and began to speak.  
  
"Ah, Miss Granger. You are no doubt wondering why I have asked you here." He peered down at her through his narrow spectacles, his long white hair flowing around him.  
  
"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered, a little nervously; she rarely addressed the Hogwarts headmaster personally, and thus was unsure of the proper mannerisms to use around him.  
  
The Professor noticed her anxiety, and pulled out a bag of pear drops from his pocket.  
  
"Care for a sweet, Hermione?" He offered her the bag.  
  
Hermione reached out with her left arm, and took one, placing it in her mouth as she returned her arm, and began to suck gently on the pear drop.  
  
"I assure you," Dumbledore said with his most welcoming vocal tone, "that you may be at ease with me. I do, however, need to ask you a few questions about your time aboard the Hufflepuff transport. We should, however, discuss them in private." He indicated to an office just past Ron's bed, at which nurses were still frantically trying to save his life with all manner of creatures and spells now. "Time is of the essence, if we are to save your friend Ronald."  
  
Hermione nodded and followed the Professor as he led her into the room, taking a quick glance at Ron as she passed him. His body was pale and no longer radiated blue; his leg was still bleeding and looked to be worsening. Hermione had to suppress vomit as she passed; she was feeling extremely upset and sickened at Ron's condition.  
  
She entered the office and sat down opposite Professor Dumbledore. There was no desk; simply a pair of chairs.  
  
Professor Dumbledore once again looked down at her. "Hermione, you were the one that dropped the protective energy field aboard the transport. You exited the transport, targeted the disruption, and invoked the Inverte Invertala Temporala spell. I am correct, am I not?"  
  
Hermione solemnly nodded.  
  
"And you succeeded in closing the temporal disruption and inverting it, also correct?" he continued.  
  
Hermione nodded again, a little more confident now.  
  
Dumbledore nodded in response. "You are aware of the complexity of this particular incantation?"  
  
"Yes. But Professor… how did you…"  
  
"Because I saw you and your friends Harry and Ronald near Ravenclaw Tower the night of its destruction. I observed your invocation of the enchantment there. The Invisibility Cloak is no obstacle to me, Miss Granger. It is imperative that I know why you are using such an obscure and powerful spell. The entire history, present and future of the Muggle and wizarding worlds could be affected by someone using the Inverte Temporala spell. What is your motivation for using the counter curse?" He did not raise his voice but merely posed his questions as calmly as possible.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath, and decided this time, to tell the truth. She would not lie to the headmaster of Hogwarts.  
  
"I received a letter, sir. The author instructed me to use the magic in question in order to prevent someone called Peter Pettigrew from destroying the world with a temporal attack. They gave me instructions on what incantations to use, and when to use them, but they told me not to tell anyone. I… well, I told Harry and Ron, and we agreed to do our best to execute the spells. We went to reasonable lengths to ensure that the letter was not a joke. The author, of course, ensured us that it wasn't."  
  
Dumbledore continued to question her, nodding as she explained.  
  
"And who was the author of the letter?"  
  
Hermione took another deep breath.  
  
"It was me… at least it was me from a year in the future. Umm… sir, if you don't mind me asking, what does this have to do with Ron?"  
  
Professor Dumbledore smiled. "Ah yes, I was getting to that. I believe that your execution of the second spell was slightly off, owing to the immense danger and the transport's plunging downwards. Some of the Inverte Invertala Temporala's spell's effect is that of freezing time, so that the remainder of the effect repairs the temporal rupture. However, I believe some of this spell was somehow transferred to Ron, and that on his exit, the injury he sustained was held and maintained in time. This means that his leg will keep bleeding until either the spell's effect wears off, which could be a considerable period, or until you cast another spell on his leg."  
  
Hermione looked into his eyes, eagerly. "What spell, Professor?"  
  
"Inverte Temporala," said Professor Dumbledore, with the same calm in his voice as before.  
  
Hermione, however, didn't mirror this relaxed state.  
  
"You want me to cause another time rupture? Why?"  
  
"Because if you do, you can then seal it with Inverte Invertala Temporala, but in a controlled way. The creation of a new rupture will remove the old closure effect that still resides on Ron, and the controlled closure of this new rupture will allow him to recover without being killed by the rupture. And, Hermione, as you are no doubt going to ask, you are the only one that can do it because you were the one that sealed the first rupture."  
  
Hermione said nothing as she absorbed the information, albeit with rather less efficiency than a sponge would absorb water. But clearly she couldn't afford to cause any delay whatsoever in Ron's treatment; if he did not get help soon, it was certain that he would die.  
  
"Very well, Professor," Hermione croaked, picking herself up and moving towards the door with a sense of urgency, importance and fear combined.  
  
Before she reached it, however, the Professor stood and took hold of her arm sharply, shocking her to a standstill. She inclined her head to face his, shaking a little at both the speed and unexpectedness of the intercept and her continual fear of what would happen if she didn't successfully complete the inversion.  
  
"Be careful, Miss Granger," he warned with a tone that radiated both an air of sternness and an aura of mysticism, and which echoed the thoughts running through Hermione's brain, releasing her arm as she nodded an acknowledgement and following her out of the office and back into the ward.  
  
***  
  
Alicia Spinnet brushed her long, shining hair as she stood next to Parvati Patil, doing her best to cheer her up. Alicia had great comic talent, although, unlike the Weasley twins, she usually kept it tightly under wraps. She didn't demonstrate it often, unless humiliating a Slytherin who happened to be pestering her. She was a very good impersonator, at least with voice. She had the ability to emulate the voices of the Hogwarts faculty.

She cleared her throat.  
  
"Welcome to Potions. I am Professor Severus Snape, but you may call me Sev, or Sevvy if you particularly like me. Today, with the help of my beloved assistant Harry Potter, I will demonstrate how to make flowery backgrounds for your parchments using a potion, and then we will all practice."  
  
Mia remained silent, but Lavender giggled a little. The impression of Snape was disturbingly accurate. Parvati was still sobbing.  
  
"In fact, after that, perhaps we could make daisy chains, and then maybe a Karaoke session. You know I'm a good singer don't you?"  
  
Alicia then sang a really cheesy pop song from the Wizarding World in the Potions Master's voice.  
  
Lavender practically cracked up at this last; Mia was laughing because Lavender and Alicia were laughing, and Parvati finally cracked and started to giggle.  
  
Alicia composed herself a little, and started warbling out a Muggle opera song, La Donne E Mobile, in a really bad and croaky voice, totally massacring the music.   
  
"_Laaaaaaaa__ donnnnnee e mobileeee….."she sang, imitating Snape's voice all the time in superb fashion. Lavender rolled around the floor laughing, the tears pouring down her face; Parvati had started to laugh, and Mia was in a similar state to Lavender. Soon, Parvati was crying tears of laughter instead of tears of unhappiness.  
  
Madam Pomfrey stepped into the corridor at that moment, closing the door of the Infirmary gently behind her. To see Parvati laughing so heartily so soon after what she had recently was chilling, but she decided to take all of them to see Professor McGonagall nevertheless, following her earlier instincts.  
  
She cleared her throat, this time being able to use her planned method of getting their attention, as they were so busy laughing that they hadn't noticed her arrival in the corridor, which was bathed in a bright green glow. It seemed that Beauxbatons was full of different radiant glows. Madam Pomfrey noted to herself that she'd probably observe many more shades of colour as she explored the French academy.  
  
The girls turned around and jumped as they saw the Hogwarts medical faculty representative; picking themselves up, they pulled their clothing straight and faced her.  
  
"Come along with me, girls, right away. I would like you all to see Professor McGonagall," she said, offering no clue as to the purpose of the visit to the Gryffindor head of house.  
  
The girls looked around at each other, all apparently as uncertain as each other as to why they were paying a visit to the Transfiguration teacher, and followed Madam Pomfrey as she walked off into the corridors of the castle.  
  
***  
  
Hermione stood at the edge of the bed where Ron was laid, his mangled leg dripping blood heavily, even now. The fibres of the muscles and nerves of Ron's leg were torn and hanging out of the wound; the colour of Ron's skin was a very pale pink now, and Ron's face was white.  
  
"You must begin immediately," ordered Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Hermione pulled out her wand from the inside of her clothing, and pointed it at Ron's leg, her hand trembling somewhat. She focused hard on Ron's leg, and said, "_Inverte___ Temporala!"  
  
A vortex started to form around Ron's leg, sucking the previous spell away in the form of a silver mist into the purple whirlpool like formation, whilst deep red blood swirled out and back into Ron's leg. The leg itself started to regain its former colour as the liquid started to penetrate the leg's internal structure, reaching the arteries, veins and capillaries, and then spreading throughout Ron's body, washing away the whiteness and swirling flesh tones back into their rightful places.  
  
Madame Maxime stood with Professor Dumbledore, neither of them looking the least bit surprised by the events that were transpiring in front of them. The French doctor and her team, however, portrayed frightened children.  
  
For the spell Hermione had used was the spell which inverted time; which erased the past. It was a forbidden spell according to International Wizarding Law, except in times of dire need or of world crisis. It had been used during the disastrous time of Lord Voldemort's uprising, but only once or twice. As a result of its usage, many millions, Muggle and wizard alike, had been saved. But the death toll arising from its effects on the timeline had been in the tens of thousands. The danger of the spell was obvious.  
  
The counter curse was the spell that Hermione had been using all along – Inverte Invertala Temporala; the spell stopped, although it could not reverse, the effects of Inverte Temporala. Like its more destructive counterpart, however, the counter curse could only be used by those with intense magical power, and only then if they focused hard on their intent. Hermione had, of course, been distracted on board the Hufflepuff transport by its imminent destruction.  
  
So now she had to concentrate and focus hard on Ron's leg, and to a lesser extent on Ron himself and his recovery. Her wand remained fixed in possession, her grip having tightened on it, and the Vortex continued to suck out the remaining magical energy of the old spell, the clouds representing it drifting away into the Vortex.  
  
"_Now!_" Professor Dumbledore commanded suddenly.  
  
"_Inverte___ Invertala Temporala!" Hermione yelled, directing her wand at the Vortex.  
  
A similar yellow-orange beam to that which Hermione had utilised only hours ago to seal the first Vortex smashed the new purple anomaly dead centre, and collapsed it instantly, leaving nothing to show it had even been there. Ron's leg, however, was still bleeding.  
  
"_Regenero___!" Hermione said, with the same enthusiasm in her voice as for her previous spell.  
  
A purple pulse penetrated Ron's leg and sealed the wound, covering it over with a purple skin. The blood stopped emerging from Ron's leg with the emplacement of this protective covering, and everyone in the room, especially the medical staff, looked somewhat relieved.  
  
Hermione let out a great sigh of relief herself, and stood frozen to the spot, taking deep breaths, her wand still focused on Ron's leg. She remained there as the other witches and wizards fixed Ron up.  
  
After a few minutes, Ron's body looked normal, but he was still unconscious. The lead French doctor finally made an announcement.  
  
"We'll know if 'ee's ok when we revive 'im. There could well be brain damage. Pray that there isn't…"  
  
She raised her wand, pointed it at Ron, and said, "__Enervate!"_


	14. Chapter 14: Or So It Would Seem

**Hermione's Letter  
By Steve  
  
Copyright © 2003 Steven Gilks. All rights reserved. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and all related concepts and situations copyright © JK Rowling. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.  
  
**All reviews get a review response.  
  
Dedicated to my beta reader who constantly encourages me, refines and enhances my work and made To Dream Again II such a success.  
**  
Chapter 14  
  
**_She raised her wand, pointed it at Ron, and said, "_Enervate!_"  
  
_Ron's eyelids shot apart, as if they had been touched by the power of an electric shock, but there was no further response from him. He simply lay on the bed, showing no signs of consciousness or of awareness of the world around him, and of the many pairs of eyes peering down at him from around his bed.  
  
After perhaps a minute of being in this state, his eyelids moved together, forming their protective layer over his eyes once more.  
  
There was no further motion from him, nor was there any sound from those surrounding him.  
  
The French doctor repeated Hermione's charm, but there was no movement this time, not even the battering of an eyelid.  
  
She tried again and again, hoping desperately for some change, but eventually Madame Maxime placed her hand on the old doctor's shoulder, and pulled her away, leading her out into the corridor.  
  
Professor Dumbledore, similarly, placed his arm around Hermione, and held her close to him.  
  
Hermione was paralysed by what she was seeing.  
  
_Ron was gone.  
  
_And it was she, Hermione, that had caused it to happen.  
  
By following the instructions on a letter that could well have been a fake.  
  
***  
  
Harry Potter sat up straight in his bed in the Second Ward of the hospital at Beauxbatons, his glasses on the small cupboard unit next to him, the glass shattered, and Harry himself with a large cut directly above his left eye where some of the glass had impacted his skin, being mended by one of the organic patches that were so frequently used in Beauxbatons. He held a cup of pumpkin juice and on the top of his quilt lay a bar of chocolate, which was a much more useful nutritional supplement in the wizarding world than in the world of the Muggles, where it was simply a fattening item with a few limited benefits, and thus loved by Harry's cousin, Dudley, who had once owned a massive model of himself carved out of chocolate, before he had given in to temptation and eaten its entirety, and surprisingly enough, with no ill-effects whatsoever.  
          Harry longed to see his friends again; he hadn't seen Hermione or Ron, or in fact, anyone who was not a patient or a member of medical staff since he had been brought into the ward after the disastrous crash of the Hufflepuff transport. Granted, it had been but a few short hours previously, but he felt nevertheless alone.  
          He repaired his glasses with the spell now familiar to him from Hermione's teachings, and after replacing them on his face, he glanced around the small room, which was perhaps ten metres square, and contained four beds. Hannah Abbott was lying asleep in the bed next to his; opposite him was Amelia, Sarah's sister, who had almost been lost at the scene of the crash, and the fourth bed was occupied by a fourth-year Hufflepuff boy who had suffered concussion in the initial impact of the transport into the sea.  
          His eyes went back to Hannah, who, even in medical clothing, was a very nice-looking girl; her blonde hair flowed behind her and her unblemished face, which was facing Harry, shone in the purple glow that permeated the medical wing of the school. Her eyes were closed, and thus Harry couldn't observe her beautiful blue eyes again, but he found he had plenty to regard and consider anyway.  
          Then he thought of Hermione, and how he had felt that evening when she had fallen on top of him; he'd felt similarly then to how he did now, although he had to admit to himself that the feeling had been more intense with Hermione than it was right now with Hannah. He didn't know if it was the fact that it had been Hermione, or if her closer proximity had increased the strength of the feelings, but he definitely knew that they were stronger with her than with the blonde Hufflepuff girl.  
          Harry had never experienced love, nor knew how to tell if he had been afflicted by it; but he sensed that these feelings might have something to do with it. He would have to discuss it with Ron, who probably experienced these feelings for someone.  
          Suddenly, he noticed a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at him. He jumped, and tried his best to regain his composure, not wanting to look a fool, but knowing he'd been caught in the act.  
          Hannah pulled herself up in her bed, sitting up straight with her legs still under the covers, and yawned loudly, stretching her arms and her mouth widely as she did so, and when she had finished, she turned to face Harry, and gave him a wide smile.  
          "Hi, Harry," she said by way of greeting. "What time is it?"  
Harry looked at his watch, which, because it was in a wizarding school, had stopped functioning, and, realising this, he looked at a Wizarding Clock which was hovering in the centre of the room, and which was semitransparent.  
          "Seven thirty. But I don't know if it's morning or evening. I awoke from the crash to find myself in here, and there aren't any windows, so I can't tell."  
          Hannah nodded, her eyes taking an unusually long time to blink, indicating the fact that she was still grossly tired. "How are your friends? Have you seen them? And have you seen Susan?" she queried.  
          Harry answered her questions as best he could, which amounted to the total of informing Hannah that he hadn't seen any of them, or indeed anyone at all, since he had been in the ward.   
Indeed, there did not appear to be an entryway to the ward at all; the room had no windows and no doors.  
          Hannah picked up a glass of water that seemed to be waiting for her on the unit next to her bed and drunk from it, feeling all over refreshed as she did so. There were many diverse applications of magic, and this was yet another of them. She felt much more awake as the water passed into her body and made widespread its effects.  
          "Umm, Harry," she said, the same nervousness she had had before, when they had first met on board the transport, permeating her voice, "you remember what we discussing aboard the transport?"  
          Harry didn't have to think too hard to realise what she was talking about. It was, after all, quite like what he had been thinking about himself minutes earlier. "Yeah," he said, trying to sound reassuring, so she would feel more at ease with herself.  
          Hannah took a deep breath. "Well," she began, "as I said, I… well, I'm attracted to one of the Gryffindor boys, and I… well, that is, if you would, not that you have to or anything, I understand it might make you uncomfortable…"  
          Harry's hopes leaped. Could it be that there was someone here who cared for him?  
          "Hannah, I'd love to."  
          Hannah looked a bit shocked, but a smile grew on her face. "You would?" she said with a note of surprise.  
          "Yes. You're… well, you…" he stuttered, before plucking up his confidence, "you're beautiful, and it would… well, it would make me proud to be with you." His face had turned a deep shade of the primary colour red, and was similarly coloured to one half of the colours of his Hogwarts house, Gryffindor.  
          Hannah's face began to mirror these colours, and a little tear came out of her right eye's tear duct as a wide smile assimilated her face.  
          Harry looked rather disturbed when he noticed it.  
          "What's up, Hannah?" he asked his new girlfriend.  
          She wiped the tear away. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say those words."  
          Harry climbed out of his own bed, and moved over to Hannah's, sitting himself down on the top, and putting his arm around her back, very considerately allowed her to snuggle up against him, the warmth of each other's body increasing the feelings of bliss now being experienced by both of them.  
  
          Neither Harry nor Hannah had ever felt as contented.  
  
          _That feeling, Harry thought, _is most definitely back_.  
  
***  
  
          Professor Albus Dumbledore led the third-year Gryffindor known as Hermione Granger away from the Infirmary, heading towards the temporary office of Professor Minerva McGonagall, Hermione's Head of House, and possibly favourite teacher, which was located in a new staff facility that had been constructed by the Beauxbatons staff in record time.  
          Hermione had still not reacted to the events she had just observed; no tears, no words, not even an expression. She simply walked adjacent to Professor Dumbledore, although she was now walking without the support of his arm. The Professor had taken another pear drop, and was sucking gently on it, whilst Hermione gazed into space, not really aware of where she was going, but following the Professor's lead.  
          They arrived at the door of the staff building and Professor Dumbledore opened it with little effort, despite the door's massive size and mass. Hermione walked in and was followed by her Headmaster, and followed him down a white corridor that possessed none of the usual Beauxbatons coloured illumination; in its place were white panels on the walls that seemed to emit light. They were extremely bright, and Hermione focused her eyes on the floor, which, by total contrast, was black, and seemed to absorb light instead of create it.  
          Parvati Patil and the Professor already occupied the office of Professor McGonagall, which was at the end of the corridor and up the stairs, so Dumbledore was told by Mia, Lavender and Alicia who were waiting outside it. All of them tried to speak to Hermione, but received no answers, until Lavender asked after Ron.  
          Hermione started to cry as soon as she was asked, shaking her head feebly, and Lavender immediately took her in her arms, holding her as tightly as she could, stroking her head through her large bushy hair.  
          Professor Dumbledore went in to see Professor McGonagall, and Parvati, who now looked a lot more relaxed, having had a talk about her sister with the Transfiguration teacher, came out from the office.  
          "There has been too much blood loss. We have lost him, Minerva. However, although Ronald Weasley is down, he may not necessarily be out."  
          Minerva McGonagall looked seriously at Professor Dumbledore.  
          "You mean, there may be a possibility to bring him back?"  
          Albus nodded. "Indeed, there may be. But it will mean further risk. If we lose him a second time, there really will be nothing we can do."  
          McGonagall continued to look at him intently as he continued.  
          "To bring him back from the state of near-death in which he is now, we need to locate a full-sized Blue Phoenix, convince it to spread young Mr. Weasley with the Dust of Benevolence, and then a round-the-clock vigil of his closest friends and family will need to be maintained in order to transfer the necessary life-energy to him for his recovery to begin."  
          McGonagall's heart sank; the expression on her face saying everything that needed to be said.  
          "Do you really think we can do that?"  
          Professor Dumbledore simply answered, "_We must_. The loss of Harry's and Hermione's best friend will affect them in ways that will affect their futures, and the future of the world. They will not be able to fulfil their destinies without him. Besides, if we don't, Hogwarts will have lost its best chess player of all time, and as the Headmaster, it would be rather irresponsible of me to allow that to happen, don't you think?" He forced a smile, and Minerva did the same.  
          "You realise that we could both get life sentences in Azkaban for what we are going to attempt?"  
          "Yes," Dumbledore said, "but I know that what might happen if we don't will be much more severe than the life imprisonment of two Hogwarts teachers. We must take that risk."  
          Professor McGonagall slowly nodded her acceptance.  
          "Perhaps we should tell Hermione. She is in an awful state. No doubt she blames herself for what appears, to her, to be Ron's death," pronounced Albus, and the two exited the room, to find Hermione in the arms of her four friends, simply silent again, her emotions apparently paralysing her again.  
          "Hermione, would you please come into my office?" Professor McGonagall asked as softly as she could.  
          Hermione granted her request silently, not tilting or raising her eyes, not making any vocal acknowledgement, but moving into the office nonetheless.  
          Minerva gestured for Hermione to sit down opposite her, and she did so, again silently.  
          "Now, Hermione, firstly, you should know that Ron is not dead. He is simply in a state of what we call 'near-death' – he is stable, but we will not be able to revive him unless we can supply him with more life energy. Professor Dumbledore and I have a plan on how to do that, but until we can execute it, we will need you to sit tight. I know this will be difficult, especially for you and for young Mr. Potter, but it is essential that you do. Hold on to the thought that Ron will be ok, because he will be. It may not be today, or tomorrow, or even in the next few months, but he _will_ recover."  
          Professor McGonagall considered that which she had just committed to doing while she gave Hermione some time to absorb what she had just been told. She was going to break the law and risk a life sentence in Azkaban, as well as risk her life by entering close proximity of a Blue Phoenix; they were the direct opposite of the more common yellow phoenix, and had the opposite temperament too – they were vicious and unfriendly, and they attacked with a powerful blast of ice, capable of destroying a human body with a single direct hit. But they also held a powerful regenerative property – the Dust of the Purest Heart, unique to the species, and capable of bringing someone in the Near-Death state back to a normal condition. And if Ron was to survive, or at least ever be revived, this substance would be a necessary element.  
          Hermione, meanwhile, was still staring rather blankly and nonchalantly into space. __Ron was alive. No, he's dead. Her own eyes had told her that.__ But Professor McGonagall wouldn't lie. But then, thinking about it, she would if she thought it was better for someone than to know the truth. Yes, that must be it. Ron's dead.  
          "You must be mistaken, Professor, for I have seen that Ron is dead," she chanted in a monotone.  
          Professor McGonagall was apparently taken aback, as the look on her face was clearly one of surprise. She looked from left to right, before responding to Hermione's erroneous statement.  
          "No, Hermione, he's alive. He's not dead. He's in…" she considered carefully, "…a deep sleep. To awaken him, we need a special medicine."  
          Again, Hermione thought about it. _Why does she continue to lie? He's dead! Ah – maybe she can't accept his death. He is, after all, one of her favourite students.  
_          "Professor, I know it's hard, but you need to accept his death. He's gone, and will never be coming back. It's true, I'm sorry." She looked into Professor McGonagall's eyes, and the latter flashed Hermione a sympathetic look.  
          "You're right, Hermione. I need to accept it, and move on. It'll be hard, as you say, but I will be able to do it." She looked up at Professor Dumbledore, the fear of what was happening here evident in her eyes.  
  
***  
  
Virginia Weasley and Samantha Tensenson, sitting in the Common Room of the forward residence tower at Beauxbatons School of Magic in France, had found partners to share rooms with. Ginny's partner was an overly tall girl called Amélie, and Sam's happened to be her identical twin, Anaïs. Both of the twins possessed lime green hair and similarly coloured eyes, and were both sixteen years old. Sam and Ginny had initially thought themselves unlucky to have had to pair up with much older girls, but had soon come to regard the twins in a much better light, as they were both very bright and were extremely friendly, once the language barrier was surpassed. Additionally, they possessed much advice regarding relationships, and this was attractive for any girl, even the young Samantha.  
  
"Well, you see, Anaïs, I've only been a witch student for the past two days, but I've… well I've kinda fallen for someone already." She hid her face behind a nearby purple pillow.  
  
"You 'ave? Zat's wonderful! Tell me," Anaïs responded in somewhat exaggerated excitement.  
  
"Well, you see, he's been really nice to me since day 1. He welcomed me to Gryffindor and he and his friends didn't reject me when the other students did. You see, a lot of the students from Hogwarts don't like me. But he and his friends and his sister didn't reject me."  
  
Anaïs smiled at her new friend. "Zat must 'ave been nice. For zem not to reject you, I mean."  
  
Samantha smiled. "It was… but then I wish a few more people would let bygones be bygones too." Her expression drooped a bit, and Anaïs recognised that it was time to move the conversation on again.  
  
"So 'oo is it?" she asked. Sam, however, didn't response, so Anaïs repeated the question, and when that didn't work she prodded Sam's arm sharply.  
  
This caused Sam to be disturbed from her thoughts, and she responded with some confusion, until Anaïs repeated the question for the second time.  
  
"Oh. It's Ron Weasley," she responded with a big smile on her face.  
  
Anaïs was a little bit shocked by the revelation that the person Samantha liked was two years older than she was, which at Sam's age, was quite a difference. Additionally, Anaïs had not yet met the, unbeknownst to them, near-dead Ron, who was, of course, in the Infirmary, and therefore she did not know if Ron was as nice as Samantha made him out to be. People in love often have clouded perceptions of the targets of their affections, and as a very young girl, who was only just becoming aware of romantic relationships, Samantha would be even more susceptible to them.  
  
It was at that moment that a large, white owl tapped sharply on the window of Anaïs' room, which was where the two girls were having their conversation. The elder girl reached over and opened the window, and the owl flew in and dropped a note on Samantha's bed, flying off immediately with several other notes still in its wings.  
  
Samantha opened the note, noticing that it was rather hastily written. She read it aloud:  
  
_"Sam, come down to the Infirmary immediately. Meet me there. Hermione"  
  
_Samantha wondered what was going on, and concluded that the only way to find out was to go down there.  
  
***  
  
On arrival at the scene, Samantha met Hermione, and also Sarah, her boyfriend Fred Weasley, his twin brother George, their sister Ginny and their brother Percy, all of whom had been summoned. Additionally, Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were present.  
  
"Good, now you are all here, I have an announcement to make," said Hermione proudly, with a big smile on her face. "I would like to inform you all… that Ronald Weasley and I are getting married."_


	15. Chapter 15: Tempus Fugit

**Hermione's Letter Chapter 15  
By Steve  
  
Copyright © 2004 Steven Gilks.**** All rights reserved. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and all related concepts and situations copyright © JK Rowling. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.  
  
All reviews get a review response.  
  
Dedicated to my beta reader who constantly encourages me, refines and enhances my work and made Hermione's Letter and To Dream Again II the successes they are.**

**Chapter 15  
  
**Professor McGonagall choked on her hot chocolate, and almost dropped the cup on the floor. Professor Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.  Samantha didn't react at all, having been stunned into silence.  Sarah just clung to Fred while George and Percy stood looking bewildered. Ginny, however, plunged forward at Hermione.  
  
"Hermione, WHAT did you just say?" she said in a voice that was ready to burst free of her voice box.  
  
"Yes, you heard me correctly," Hermione announced again gleefully, "Ron and I are getting married! And it'll be a wonderfully joyous occasion, with ribbons and balloons and lovely dresses and all manner of bountiful things, and it'll be nice for all of our fans, you know…"  
  
Fortunately, Professor McGonagall had regained her composure by then and had led Hermione away with haste, motioning to the others to stay behind. Professor Dumbledore accompanied her as they led the girl away, into a room labelled "Département Cérébral", which Professor McGonagall recognized as, literally, 'Brain Department'…  
  
Ginny and her friends did not see Hermione again for a long time.  
  
*  
  
Hannah Abbott was born in a small town in the centre of, by her own admission, 'nowhere', and in the short time she had experienced so far, she had never, not once, felt quite like she did now.  
  
Hannah Abbott was thirteen years old and had flowing blonde hair, which, for her third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she had decided to grow extremely long. Her hair, which she had grown over the summer, was just about two feet long, and swung nicely behind her, often allowed to be free.   
  
Her face, perfectly formed and without any flaw, minor, major or otherwise, sat on top of her body, which was rapidly growing now. Her height was the same as that of Harry Potter, her newfound boyfriend, whose arms she was presently wrapped in.  
  
She had not experienced such emotions. She wasn't even sure what she was experiencing. It felt strange; it made her very comfortable yet very nervous; it was a very powerfully positive emotion; yet a sensation that made her insides oscillate like the strings of a harp when plucked.  
  
"So… what shall we do now?" Hannah asked him.  
  
"You're not comfortable as we are?" he asked her teasingly.  
  
Hannah smiled. "Of course I am," she answered, stroking Harry's face, "but… let's be… more comfortable," she finished.  
  
Harry's mind flew through endless clouds of possibilities of implication of her request, and then formed a plan.  
  
He was going to torture her.  
  
"Do you mean like… this?" he asked, as he gently kissed the top of her head, and moved slowly on down to her forehead, running the fingers of his left hand through her hair as he descended.  
  
Her smile broadened as he continued to drape her with kisses, moving slowly down her face, kissing her rosy-red cheeks and nibbling at her nose slightly. She responded with a quick shot at his neck with her lips, after which he brought his own lips down on hers, increasing the pressure slightly as he did so.  
  
She opened her mouth to Harry as soon as her confidence in him had been built a little more, and their tongues intertwined like the branches of a bush. They continued their embrace for many minutes, until they were shocked out of it by the sound of a door opening.  
  
They turned around, Harry's arm still around Hannah's body, and saw a door forming in the wall, then sliding aside. In the doorway stood, Hannah recognised from the time aboard the ambulances, Fleur Delacour.  
  
"It is time to go now," she said. "Come with me and I will take you to your rooms."  
  
Harry and Hannah, after gathering what belongings were present in the room, followed the sixth-year out of the sealed hospital chamber.  
  
*  
  
As everyone assembled in Beauxbatons Central, the massive, circular structure in the centre of the school, made entirely of crystal, Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons headmistress, stepped out onto the transparent stage in the centre aft of the building to address the students.  
  
Once everyone had settled down, she began. Harry sat with Hannah, their hands joined below them, but Harry felt strange without his friends Ron and Hermione, both of whom were still hospitalized.  
  
Hannah smiled at Harry, and he returned the gesture, but he was unable to clear these fleeting thoughts from his mind, even as Madam Maxime began.  
  
« Bonsoir à tous et bienvenue à l'Académie  de Beauxbatons d'Éducation et d'Avancement Magique de France. Je suis Madame Maxime, la directrice de l'Académie. Je sais que vous êtes avide de commencer voter repas, alors je ne vous demanderai pas de m'écouter trop longtemps, mais j'ai quelques choses importantes à vous dire.   
  
Pour commencer, le tournement annuel de Quidditch commencera dans trois semaines et les équipes de Hogwarts pourront participer à côté des nôtres, l'Eau, la Terre, l'Aire et le Sol.  Vos équipes auront besoin d' entraînement, et pour cela, nous vous permettons d' utiliser nos trois terrains de Quidditch. Vous aurez besoin, bien sûr, de les réserver en avance.  
  
J'ai également décidé que vous continuerez d'avoir des cours avec vos professeurs anglais, avec le soutien de nos professeurs qui peuvent parler anglais.  À mon avis, cela rendra tout plus facile. Pour ceux qui ont envie d'apprendre le français, il y aura des cours avec notre professeur de langues, Señor Rodriguez, qui vient d'Espagne mais qui peut parler le français, l'espagnol, l'italien et l'anglais.  
  
C'est tout ce que j'ai à vous dire, alors, que le repas commence! »  
  
None of the Hogwarts students, apart from Hannah, who had understood most of the speech, had had any idea what she had said, that is, until Señor Rodriguez, the Beauxbatons languages teacher, then stepped onto the stage to give a translation in English.  
  
"I'm now going to repeat Madame Maxime's speech in English for the benefit of our guests.  
  
Good evening, everyone and welcome to Beauxbatons Academy of Magical Education and Advancement in France. I am Madame Maxime, the headmistress of the school. I'm sure you're all eager to eat so I won't ask you to listen to me for very long, but I have a few things to tell you. Firstly the annual Quidditch tournament will start in three weeks, and the Hogwarts teams will be able to participate alongside our own teams, Water, Earth, Air and Sun. Your teams will need practice of course, so feel free to use any of the three Quidditch fields. You will, of course, need to book them in advance.  
  
Also, I have decided that you will continue to have classes with your English teachers, supported by those of our staff who can speak English. This will make it easier for everyone, in my opinion. For those who wish to learn French, there will be private classes with our language teacher, Señor Rodriguez, who is from Spain, but can speak French, Spanish, English and Italian. Those interested will need to sign up with him; simply owl him if you wish to participate.  
  
That's all I have to say, so, let the meal commence!"  
  
As he finished, the plates on the tables in Beauxbatons Central filled with food, and inspired the usual sense of awe in the first-year students; the Muggle-borns especially had not seen such feats performed, apart from during the first meal at Hogwarts. It was all still a lot for a young mind-body system to accept.  
  
Fleur Delacour had not been exaggerating when she had described the meal the visiting students and staff were about to be presented with. As in Hogwarts, the tables, although here made of stone, and circular, rather than the wooden benches present in the English school, possessed plates, dishes and glasses that refilled themselves. The choice of foods was as wide and varied, although it was more predominately based around French cuisine.  
  
On the other side of the room from Harry and Hannah, who were sat at a smaller table than most, a table designed for two people, Samantha, Anaïs, Ginny and Amélie were together on one of the larger tables, which were laid out for four occupants, discussing the events of the previous day.  
  
"Did you know anything about this, Ginny?" Amélie asked Ginny inquisitively.   
  
"Not a thing," Ginny declared. "It's not a surprise really. The way they act around each other in class… but then, even in the wizarding world, they can't get married for at least another three years. Why Hermione has decided to announce it now, when so much could change, is beyond me."  
  
Samantha shot a glance at Anaïs while Ginny was explaining, and Anaïs acknowledged with the smallest of nods.  
  
"It is very strange," the French girl said, looking at Ginny, "but we must, until we find out more, accept what we have been told. The teachers would never allow it, of course."  
  
Amélie tried to continue but Anaïs shot her twin a glance that told her to leave it. Amélie tipped her head slightly to acknowledge.  
  
Ginny and Amélie were still quite puzzled by the whole event, but were happy to move onto another topic, in any case, so they didn't query it and continued with a new theme.  
  
They discussed many things, in fact; the lessons at Beauxbatons; which teachers were nice and which ones to avoid; the learning of French (Samantha was interested in learning, and Amélie offered to teach her); the food, which was surprisingly nice, and with some encouragement from Amélie and her twin Anaïs the two Hogwarts girls tried and enjoyed the more traditionally French parts of the menu, and of course what had happened over the previous few days.  
  
Eventually, they all left Beauxbatons Central and returned to their quarters, eager to get some rest.  
  
*  
  
_"Let me kill you!" Voldemort boomed.  
  
Hermione stood her ground, her wand in front of her. The Dark Lord faced her, his wand identically positioned.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" he called, no hate present in his voice, no emotion, just intent.  
  
Hermione, at the same moment, cast a shield charm. It was but a weak charm, but through an amazing feat of luck, it deflected Voldemort's attack. Hermione, however, was left weakened, and collapsed down to the floor.  
  
Voldemort then altered his approach, realising something, Hermione noticed, as an expression of thought came over his face. Hermione expected another Unforgivable Curse to approach her, but instead, a more benign one made its presence felt.  
  
"Accio Granger!"  
  
Hermione floated off of the floor and over to Voldemort, who rotated her to a standing position and released her from the Accio spell, before calling on Petrificus Totalus to hold her still.  
  
He then produced a complex device that bore more than a passing resemblance to a bed. It had various instruments attached to it, all tipped with shining metal spikes, and each bearing the logo of a snake.  
  
Hermione suddenly found herself floating over and onto the device, being strapped down by snakes that wrapped themselves around her body as she was placed on the complex torture device.  
  
Or so she thought it was. It certainly looked like one.  
  
Another wave of Voldemort's wand brought the metal prongs towards Hermione. They came in as slowly as a tide, yet Hermione could not ignore their approach…  
  
The first point touched the skin on her left foot, stopped its approach, and a snake slithered out of the end, embedding itself into Hermione's skin. She screeched with pain as it clasped around the nerves in the base of her foot, and eventually, rendered the nerves useless, the pain subsiding as it did.  
  
She felt a wave of energy pass through her brain, and she felt her mind closing off.  
  
Voldemort, however, suddenly pointed his wand in the air, halting the procedure.   
  
Without warning, he Disapparated, much to Hermione's surprise.  
  
Whether he Reapparated, Hermione would never know.  
  
_*  
  
She stirred.  
  
"Time to wake up, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey whispered softly to Hermione as she lay in her bed, now wearing the medical uniform of Beauxbatons; a red garment, light and immeasurably soft. Her wand was lying on a bedside cabinet and her hair was longer than it had ever been; it reached most of the way down her back now, and had somehow entirely straightened.  
  
Hermione rubbed her eyes as her mind became aware of her surroundings, although she did not recognize her present location. This lack of information, however, was nothing compared to the sight of her parents, both of whom were sitting at the opposite end of her bed, looking earnestly at her pretty face.  
  
She vocalised her thoughts.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey… Mum… Dad… why am I here? I don't remember being brought in. What's wrong with me?"  
  
An uneasy silence ensued as her parents both looked at her with sympathy, invoking in Hermione feelings of bewilderment.  
  
After all, she was…  
  
Madam Pomfrey, however, was more inclined to speak. "Hermione, do you know where you are?"  
  
Hermione repressed a glare; she felt a little patronized by this question, but nevertheless gave a response. "I presume I am still in Beauxbatons, but I do not recall when, how or why I got into this room," she answered, looking around the ward, which was as purple as some of the corridors were. There was very little decoration in here, however. There were also no other patients, which rather concerned the young Gryffindor, as it was clearly a hospital ward from the layout of beds.  
  
"That's right, you're in Beauxbatons," Madam Pomfrey continued, "it's good that you remember that. This room is the… psychiatric ward of Beauxbatons Hospital. You were suffering from a disorder of the brain that only occurs to those with powerful magical talent; on suffering severe emotional trauma, sometimes the problem is invoked. You were unfortunate to have this happen to you. Your symptoms included clouded perceptions of the world, inability to accept the truth, and the beginnings of madness. It was at this point that we brought you in to the hospital. The treatment required us to induce a coma, and now that we have confirmed your treatment was successful, we have awoken you."  
  
Hermione nodded after she considered that which she had just been told. A lesser person may have been overwhelmed, but the Gryffindor genius, as she was known, was easily able to accept it. She asked a further question.  
  
"How long was I in a coma for?"  
  
"Two months, two weeks and five days. The date is November 20th, and it's nine in the morning."  
  
This was not as easily acceptable for the young girl. She had to register now that she had missed nearly three months of work, and the look on her face was enough to show the observers that she wasn't quite ready for that revelation.  
  
"You can't be serious." She looked to her parents for support, but they simply nodded.  
  
"I'd better be getting back to work then," she announced, and tried to move her body, but it simply stayed where it was. Madam Pomfrey looked sympathetically at Hermione again.  
  
"Hermione, I'm afraid to tell you that there were some… complications during the procedure."  
  
Hermione looked at Pomfrey as if to say 'what do you mean, complications?'  
  
Pomfrey answered the look sombrely. "I'm afraid your lower body is paralysed. The effects will eventually wear off, but it may be a matter of days, weeks, months, or even years, before you regain full mobility. I'm sorry."  
  
*  
  
It was a long time before Harry was allowed to see his friend Hermione again.  
  
Hermione's emotions had fluttered about like the wings of a butterfly as she came to accept the true implications of her loss. The events of the year had now cost her her mobility, and Hermione was highly resentful of her future self for involving her. The implications had forced her to miss Quidditch, to miss two months of classes, and to not even have the ability to leave her bed unaided. All in all, Hermione was very bitter, and as a result, Harry had been advised to stay away by Professor McGonagall. Normally, he wouldn't have paid any attention and would have gone to comfort his friend anyway, but even Fred and George, who would normally promote that kind of endeavour, told him it was for the best for Hermione.  
  
So he had reluctantly obeyed McGonagall's directive and had given Hermione the time to herself.  
  
But when he did see her again, things were quite different to his expectations of the girl.  
  
The room had been cleared of personnel in order to afford the pair some privacy.  
  
As Harry knocked on the door, he swallowed back a lump in his throat. There was so much to tell her…  
  
He heard her voice faintly inviting him to enter. No convictions and no energy were present in her request, and this, at least, was clear to Harry.  
  
Harry opened the big door, and stepped through it, closing it quietly behind him, and spotted Hermione instantly, her big brown hair visible from any distance.  
  
As he approached her, he looked straight into her eyes. He found the usual difficulties he had with reading anything from the expression of a girl completely eradicated; there was so much pain in her eyes it was almost enough to make him turn away. But for Hermione's sake, he didn't do so.  
  
Passing the halfway point, he moved to the side of the room to pick up a stool, but not once did he break the eye contact. Neither did she; not willing to break their link even for a second, she followed his eyes as they followed hers.  
  
He closed the remaining gap quickly and perched himself on the stool next to her bed, and gently took her hand, holding it tightly within his own, and allowing her to begin. He didn't know what to say, even if he did want to start this most difficult of exchanges, which he had no desire to do.  
  
She opened her mouth, and weakly formed the syllables that made up Harry's name.  
  
"I… am happy to see you again, Harry," she said.  
  
Harry didn't know how to translate the unexpected hesitation in her voice, and he had no choice but to hope for the best. He decided to return the sentiment, inciting a weak smile from his friend, and a new response.  
  
"Did… did Madam Pomfrey explain my condition to you? Did she tell you… well, of my disability?"  
  
Harry nodded to her, still maintaining eye contact. "Has it improved at all?"  
  
Hermione explained how for the past weeks she had tried and tried to regenerate feeling in her legs, with the help of Madam Pomfrey and the French medical staff, but had been totally unsuccessful. She had tried spells, incantations, herbal remedies, and even direct neural stimulation, but despite their best efforts, Hermione's hopes had been unfulfilled.  
  
To add to this, she noted, her legs could not survive on life support for much longer. The blood flow was slowly beginning to deteriorate; Hermione had had great fortune that it had survived to the present time.  It would take something particularly special to revive them now.  
  
Even Professor Dumbledore had tried to make Hermione's legs function, and although he had been successful in making them move, this was only movement under external control. Hermione was still unable to do the job herself.  
  
After his failure, he had had a long chat with Hermione, explaining that no matter how powerful the wizard, how skilled the witch, that sometimes, problems just couldn't be solved with magic.  
  
This had been one week previously. Hermione still hadn't accepted the full implications of the new reality she was being challenged with by her own body.   
  
She was clinging to that hope that she might get something back, however unlikely it was.  
  
"Harry… what am I supposed to do?" she asked after she had completed her explanations of recent events. "How am I supposed to live my life like this? And…" she whispered, "how am I supposed to complete the mission? I'm deeply involved in this; I have been right from the start. Ever since I received that blasted letter."  
  
Harry allowed Hermione to release her feelings and promised himself he was not going to take it personally. He could see ever more clearly how wound up she had become in her confinement to the same room for three months. It was perhaps worse than prison, as there was no set date she would be released; she did not know if she was going to face another class again this year; there had been talk of Hermione having to repeat her third year, and on approaching this subject, Hermione's anger again bubbled to the surface.  
  
"Honestly! Thinking about making me re-sit the year just because of a bloody injury! I'll be damned if I am going to do that. "  
  
Her feelings were beginning to overcome her, and recognising her need without any need for prompting, Harry pulled her into a hug. He held her very tightly, his arms completely surrounding her, and giving her the support she wanted.  
  
Hermione felt such power in his arms, in that warm body wrapped around her own; she had not felt so overwhelmed with sensations in months, except for pain. She didn't break the embrace even for an instant.  
  
Her eyes filled with tears; Hermione, however, didn't care. She was happy again, if only for an instant. She would still have Harry there to support her, even if things became more serious. She had not, until now, realised how lucky she was to have him as a friend.  
  
And it was not his fame, his Quidditch skills, or his body that Hermione could see in him.  
  
It was his heart, which, as much as it tended to lead his actions, was pure and true. Hermione could feel it beating and its gentle rhythm began to fill her spirit with a power long since lost in her.  
  
"But Harry… what can I do?"  
  
He took her hand again, holding it clamped between his own like a crab's pincers.  
  
"We'll find a way, Hermione. Trust me," he calmed her with his softened voice.  
  
He looked into her eyes again, and she returned the gesture, before sweeping him away in a full kiss.  
  
Harry was momentarily fazed, and didn't break the kiss, but as what he was doing dawned on him, he pulled away.  
  
Hermione gave him a puzzled glance as he climbed off of the bed.  
  
"Hermione… we can't do this. I can't do this. I… well, that is, I should have told you earlier, but…"  
  
The girl looked like she was about to break into tears as he explained what had happened between him and Hannah while Hermione and Ron had been unconscious. She was about to crack, when he backed off, saying simply that he had to go.  
  
He had made it halfway across the room when Hermione scrambled out of bed and struggled across the room to follow him, with no regard for what she was doing.  
  
When Harry turned, his face indicated something to her, and she realised her perspective had changed.  
  
She was standing tall, her legs shaking, but she was standing tall, about two metres away from his position.  
  
Her left leg started to give way, and Harry spotted it in time to grab her, and hold her standing up.  
  
With one arm around his shoulder, Harry yelled for Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall to join them.  
  
Soon, Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey entered, and this time, Minerva did drop her drink.  
  
*  
_  
Hermione screamed as the snake pierced her skin, and entered her arm, neutralizing the nerves and replacing them with its own substances as it proceeded further into her body. Most of her nervous system had been replaced by this point and Hermione had little control over her own body.  
  
Voldemort continued to induce pain with the Cruciatus curse, in order that the sensations would be continuous throughout the torture he was exposing the young girl to.  
  
But when he turned his back, the girl lying on the bench next to that of Hermione hit him dead central in the back with the Petrificus Totalus curse, freezing him for long enough that she could get off of the platform and steal Voldemort's wand. By using the Priori Incantatem curse she was able to determine how to remove Hermione from her torture table safely and to help her to walk.  
  
But Voldemort recovered quickly. He ordered his assistant, Wormtail, to kill the girls, but slowly, so that they would feel it.  
  
Wormtail used the Locomotor Mortis curse on the girls, and then used a second spell to remove all of their clothing. The perverted and corrupted servant of Voldemort then proceeded to torture the pair in a manner so horrific that both Hermione and Susan wished they had simply allowed Voldemort to use the Avada Kedavra spell on them.  
  
Wormtail picked up Hermione with a metal hand he had summoned, and slowly began to crush her body._  
  
As the pain became intolerable, Hermione bolted upright in her bed, whacking her head on the shelving units in her shared room with Mia, and screamed instinctively. Mia also awoke on hearing Hermione's scream, and climbed out of her bed. She walked over to Hermione's bed and sat down on it, putting her arm around Hermione's back and pulling her close.  
  
"Are you alright, 'ermione?" she asked tenderly. Pulling out her wand, she used a pain reduction spell on Hermione's head to reduce the swelling and pain caused by the impact.  
  
Meanwhile, in a room on the other side of the tower, Susan Bones bolted awake and her head received a similar blow from the shelving units. Her roommate, a girl called Cressida, a tall girl with short blonde hair and an ear for languages, awoke instantly, although unlike Mia, she shot up as Susan and Hermione had done, and whacked her head too, so forcefully she collapsed back to the bed, knocked out. Susan ignored her own pain and used a levitating spell to take Cressida to the infirmary, for certainty that she would be ok.  
  
Madam Pomfrey and the French doctor assured Susan that Cressida would be fine, although she had done the correct thing in bringing her in for a check up. After a quick check herself, Susan was instructed to return to her quarters, and set off down the corridors towards the front tower again.  
  
She turned the last corner, rubbing her head (the pain was still quite severe), and saw Hermione walking towards her, also tending to the bump now present on her head. Susan wondered if Hermione had also woken suddenly, and caught her attention.  
  
"Psst! Hermione!"  
  
Hermione instantly picked out the Hufflepuff girl, and walked over to join her.  
  
"Hey, Susan. What are you doing out and about at this time of night?"  
  
"Well, I had a bad dream and I woke up suddenly, and hit my head on the shelf over my bed. My roommate woke up when she heard me scream, and hit her head so hard she knocked herself out."  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Aside from the bit about your roommate knocking herself out, that's exactly what happened to me. Wait… let me guess… Voldemort? Torturing me and you?"  
  
Susan nodded; there was no need for words.  
  
"Come on," Hermione commanded. "We need to have a chat about this." She led Susan to the outside of the building, across the courtyard and past the newly-erected biodome, and even beyond the top Quidditch field, which was at the very back of the school, to a spot behind one of the aforementioned field's watchtowers.  
  
She used her wand to create a comfortable environment; a picnic sheet, a small fire and warm fleeces for them; their Beauxbatons robes were not particularly useful for keeping the heat in.  
  
The Hufflepuff and the Gryffindor sat and discussed their shared experiences.  
  
The night went on; the hours went by and the two became aware of the importance of what was happening.  
  
By three o' clock, they had both fallen asleep again, still on the picnic sheet, but with a much better understanding of the entire situation that had presented itself, in Hermione's letter.


End file.
